


Sand, Stars, Scheherazade

by Celestial_Sphere



Category: Naruto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-08-14 06:26:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 83,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8001868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celestial_Sphere/pseuds/Celestial_Sphere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In every fable I've ever read, each character, each piece of the plot is carefully chosen to achieve what we hope will be a happy ending. But as I grew older, and the darkness of the world stained me a different hue, I couldn't help but wonder: What about the monster? What had it done to deserve such a role that led to its cruel fate?</p><p>So in this tale I weave, I tell instead the monster's tale- the story of the unfortunate soul of a man swallowed by darkness against his will. But it's ending becomes one even I cannot foresee. One not even the monster himself ever anticipated, even in his wildest dreams. Shall I weave this tale to you now?</p><p>Aylin, ledger keeper and story weaver, spent most of her life abroad traveling on the caravan employed by Suna's government. But with age came duty, devotion, and dedication to a country she barely remembered, let alone lived within. Tangled suddenly with the siblings of the last Kazekage, she finds her already dismal outlook on the future changing more times than she imagined. And with it comes things she never anticipated: acceptance, understanding, and a love that defied the bonds of betrothal or the shackles of past that would have kept her and her intended apart forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Deserted

**Author's Note:**

> Back again with a story I had no intention on ever writing, pfft. After reminiscing with my sister on this show that once meant so much to us, we had the great idea to envision the type of woman we believed best suited to our favorite characters. Our talks ended up leading to Gaara, a beloved character to us both, and thanks to it, this story was born. I hope you all enjoy. 
> 
> A special thanks to Yvonne: Thank you for believing in me too when the world made me out to be a monster. With your sisterly support and unwavering optimism, I found a path to tread upon happily in this world no longer bonded to that darkness alone.

Roaming the world made remaining stagnant in one place for too long feel like being imprisoned. There was no home, no permanent place pinpointed on a map that held everything held dearest of all. Just the large azure hue of the sky during the day and the deep twinkling expanse of the cosmos when the moon rose reminding you that this whole planet held your heart.  


“Alright, my dear.” Uncle Nobu clamps a hand down over my shoulder and draws me back from my wandering thoughts. His whiskered face has been shaved clean for this new season on the caravan, but the remnant stubble he couldn’t quite lose added a smoky shadow linger across his sun-kiss jawline. His eyes are more a gray- silver to match his serpentine soul as his wife used to joke for his almost conniving attempts to barter his way through life- to the blue-gray of my own now keeping a steadfast gaze on him. 

“Behave yourself. I wouldn’t want to come home to see the village in chaos because I’ve left you unsupervised for over a turning of the moon.”  


I quirk a brow. “Only chaos? My dear uncle, you think too highly of me. I’m afraid it will be turned to dust and rubble in the time you’ll be away.”  


A boisterous laugh. “Oh, Aylin. How you never cease to amaze me with the witticism you keep upon you like a weapon.” A smirk shared between the two of us slowly shifts to a more melancholy smile. “But truly, take care of yourself. I promise we will return soon enough, and everything will be settled to have you join us yet again.”  


“I would hope so.” I can feel my lip quiver. The two of us rarely parted, though the reasons behind this unfortunate farewell was a matter of business. A working trade group between our country and many others had piles of paperwork upon paperwork to sustain. And with a new year soon to be upon us, the records of all our transactions had to be logged and filed with the government officials to have our pending right to provide international commerce approved for the incoming year. “And rest assured that all this tedious and dreadful legalities will be completed by the time you return to me.”  


A proud grin stretches his thin lips upwards a fraction. “I have absolute faith in you my dear. You’ve never let your uncle down before, nor do I think this is the year you will begin to break my heart in that regard. Though with how beautiful you’ve become…” A twinkle in those molten silver irises as he trails off. “I fear such a thing may be inevitable when you finally fall in love.”  


I roll my eyes towards the sky bleached a lighter hue by the already burning glare of the sun over the desert this soon after dawn. “I think being back in the desert even for this short a time has fried your brain, Uncle. Please take care not to have it deteriorate any further in the time you’ll be away, or I really will have more problems than I can manage on my own.”  


A dry chuckle. “As you wish.” A more somber look. “Well,” He retracts his hand from my shoulder so that he can embrace me. “Farewell for now, my desert rose. I’ll bring you back a lovely trinket from my journey abroad.”  


“All I want is for you to come home safely.” I murmur, sarcasm now vanished, into his shoulder. My hands tighten against his thin traveler’s cloak, and the urge to cry is so strong I can barely steel myself to resist doing so. “So please do.”  


A pat to my cheek once we’ve parted. “Do not worry.” An unspoken understanding on his face for my fears of his return never occurring. “I will be back.”  


The caravan is checked once more for the inventory and my uncle, his guards, and the various other civilians who have taken up this line of work set off out through the small wedge in the red rock wall that encircled our village and kept it safe from intruders. I watch, heart in my throat, and wait until the whole contingency is merely a blip on the sandy horizon before turning away. I press a hand to my eyes, take a shaking inhale, and begin the long walk back down to the house where a dark prison of paperwork and payment logs awaited me.  
**  


A subtle breeze sweeps across the sandy grounds of the village. For a place named as the country of wind, I found the irony of it all a little more humorous than usual. Maybe I was just delusional from staring at ink on parchment for as long as I had these few days in passing. Or maybe it was the lack of fresh air and sunlight from being confined indoors to finish the work as the sweltering desert heat baked everything outside almost all hours of the day made it impossible to do anything.  


Hence the reason I ambled out midway into the sun’s departure across the molten orange sky. While a stifling heat still threatened to dry every ounce of water within me to steam, in a few hours the sudden lack of the aurous orb in the heavens above would help the dark desert cool to a manageable temperature. And on a clear day like this, make it a night to take advantage of to search through the stars for new and old constellations alike.  


My thoughts are in the infinite expanse of cosmos above us when I saunter into the government building nearing the center of the village, and distraction enough to have me wader straight into the path of another person. The recoil jolts me back to the sand-infested world tethering me to the ground, and a polite, albeit soft, apology escapes through my lips as I dip my head in an added apologetic gesture. A soft chuckle, and I lift my gaze to find myself staring into the faces of two men nearing my age.  


Except they were not just men. They were the next in line to be this country’s chief leader and his brother turned adviser.  


Kankuro’s eyes twinkle with a sense of delighted humor when I try not to gawk. His brother is a step or two behind him, sea-foam green eyes almost impossible not to look at as the dark rings encircling them drew you in. I’d heard plenty of stories about these two and their prodigal sister for as long as I could remember, most of which were less than pleasant. Heavens only knew what entity thought it would be funny to throw me into their path on such an occasion when I had been perfectly content on avoiding them my entire life.  


“Are you alright?” The older of the two asks, a light smile of friendly concern now on his lips. A small nod from me as I avert my gaze to the floor. “No need to be sheepish.” He reassures me, thinking my withdrawal is from nervousness. Not that it’s exactly false, but I wasn’t the type to be pegged as sheepish. “I don’t bite. Gaara, on the other hand…”  


A small bemused chuckle as the older brother looks at his sibling, expressionless as always, though no further comment is made. I take it as my opportunity to leave.  


“Excuse me.” I’m amazed at how nonchalant I sound. “But I must get these logs to the treasury as soon as possible.”  


“Financial ledgers, hm?” I resist frowning. Seems as though he wished to talk. “Interesting. And who would a pretty lady like you be tracking money for?”  


“The country’s caravan, Lord Kankuro.” I dip my head again.  


A small hum of enlightenment from his brother. “Ah, Nobu’s contingency.” His eyes fall a little heavier on me. “You must be his daughter.”  


“Niece, Lord Gaara.” I clarify with a tiny smile. “I am called Aylin.”  


“I see.” An awkward silence follows. Kankuro’s gaze drifts between us, eyebrow slightly lifted at the oddly formal conversation taking place now. “My apologies, Aylin. Your uncle is a very elusive man.” A small change to his usual monotone intonation. “So gathering information from him proves difficult.”  


My smile grows. “Life on the road often creates such unpredictable downfalls. However, if I can be of any assistance to you, you may glean what you wish. Or allow me to nab my uncle upon his return in a few weeks.”  


Now Kankuro’s even more intrigued. He relaxes his arms crossed across his dark tunic, purple face paint warping slightly as the expression changes yet again. I have my eyes on the floor, knowing I really don’t want to be here let alone in this very uncomfortable, very unnecessary conversation with two of the highest ranking people in this entire village.  


“We won’t prolong you any more today.” The breath of relief bubbles in my throat, but I won’t release it. “However,” My stomach falls. Always a subtle stipulation when dealing with these people. “I suppose I should take you up on your offer. Would the evening following next be available in your schedule?”  


I try not to frown as no prior engagement keeps me from declining. Not that I could have said no. He was practically my king in some sense of the word, and as leader, any invitation might as well have been a command. “It would.”  


“Then you’ll join us for dinner and let us discuss the progress of some commerce routes you’ve been pursuing.” He says calmly. “And allow yourself to have some company for a meal. You must be quite lonesome with your uncle away.”  


My eyes land on him. Still no expression on that pale, odd face, but I know he is as good with masks as anyone could be. After all, being ruled by a demon meant learning self-control and steely self-restraint. I had always thought him a cool, almost cold man, but the sentiment he’s just uttered speaks of a kind heart I had not been expected.  


It’s hard to meet his unwavering look for much longer, so I dip my head meekly. “As you wish, Lord Gaara.”  


“Very well.” He begins to move away. “Kankuro and I will come gather you on our way from the office then.”  


A brisk briefing and an even briefer goodbye from the soon-to-be Kazekage himself. His brother mutters his own farewells, eyes lingering as they sweep against my body before smiling. I know he likes what he sees. He wouldn’t be the first nor the last man to do so in the span of time I’d grown into being a woman. Not that I cared; romance had never been a major destination on my road-map for life. And my reasons against it piled up every year.  


And nothing- no political advantage, no ease of living, nor access to luxury would ever change that fact. For I did not believe love really existed in this world. Or at least, romantic love. Because this was no tale, no place where the goodness of your soul or the merit of your worth ensured a happy ending with someone alongside of you.  


I was content with being alone. I always had been. It made the nightmares of reality a little easier to deal with that way.


	2. Ensnared

                True to his word, Gaara and Kankuro are both on my doorstep late in the afternoon two days later. I’ve taken a painstaking amount of time and effort readying myself for this dinner and its inevitable discussions, knowing that as much as I would have liked to pretend it could be informal, it wouldn’t be. There’s a nicer rose-colored gown I haven’t grown out of in the last year or two, and I keep my long hair pulled politely back in a loose ponytail with a ceramic clip supporting the raised bump of bangs parted to one side of my face intact. One glance in the mirror has me hating myself, and with a scowl that destroys the beautifully conjured image of a bronzed, larger-boned woman staring back at me, I do not give my appearance another scrutinizing look.

                A flash of teeth from Kankuro is the first thing to greet me once the door is opened. “Evening, Aylin.” He lets his gaze wander before returning it to my face. “Lovely gown. That color really suits you.”

                “Thank you.” It’s the last thing I want to say to him, but the only one out of a million thoughts that’s polite and necessary to offer in response. My eyes lift to Gaara for a moment, but he seems uninterested in me unlike his brother. “Shall we?”

                A blonde haired woman meets us at the door of the Kazekage's mansion. Her stance is relaxed, but the look in her teal eyes is sharp as a knife as it tried to dissect me in the brief few seconds she has to do so without appearing rude. I wonder what the other two have said about me that makes her so distrustful. Not that I find myself worrying. It would probably be the last time I ever interacted with her.

                “Welcome.” She extends a hand. “I’m Temari.”

                “Aylin.” I extend my own to give hers a small shake while dipping my head. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, milady.”

                “Likewise, I’m sure.” Her tone says otherwise. “Well, come in. Meal’s getting cold the longer we linger out here on pleasantries.”

                Kankuro acts the part of the perfect gentleman once we’ve reached the dining room that could comfortably house a dozen people if not more. There are only four settings laid out on one end of the polished table immaculately kept scuff-free, and the power of these siblings’ bloodline hits me stronger than the aromatic steam wafting up from the various platters laid out before us. My chair is dutifully pulled out for me in one slow tug backwards, and I thank him gently as he pushes closerto the table a moment later. Temari is standing beside her own chair in a diagonal from me, brows raised when her brother ambles around her and gives her a funny look. She gestures to her chair, obviously intending for him to do the same for her as he had for me, but he laughs it off like it’s the funniest thing he’s seen all day.

                Gaara is settled directly beside me, and I feel the almost impenetrable wall slice through the air between us. The other two siblings seem not at all aware of their brother’s completely introverted aura, nor did I think they cared. He must be like this with them too. After all, he seemed the sort of man who could sit in complete silence for the entirety of a day and not feel compelled to speak to someone drowning in the silence alongside him.

                “So Aylin,” Kankuro ventures once we’ve sat in silence for a little longer than comfortable. I glance up from my meal to see him smiling kindly across the table at me. “How fares life as a woman on the caravan?”

                “I suppose as well as any other lifestyle a woman could take up in a lifetime.” I reply, barely containing my sarcasm. “Though for those who wish to settle in one place and never leave, I suppose it to be a little less than favorable.”

                “Must be nice, though.” His smile grows. “Traveling the world can’t be all too bad, hm?”

                The soft crackling in my ears and shiver passing down my spine happen simultaneously. _Don’t think about it_. I chide myself while forcing myself to smile lightly. “No. I am very fond of seeing new places, new people, new ideas. The world is a vast place. It seems almost foolish to find contentment in one place and never satiate the urge to explore and discover something unknown to you beforehand.”

                “So I take it that you find our village to be a boring place.” Temari’s sharp. A little too sharp for my liking. “Seeing as you never really linger here for too long despite it being your birth land.”

                An apologetic smile forms on my lips. “I think you misunderstand me, milady. We are very fond of the Sand, and very proud. If we were not, do you think we would take this land’s commerce into foreign lands to boost its trade and relations?”

                “Perhaps you do it for the material side of things.” A calm comment from the leader himself. It takes all my willpower not to frown. If I had known tonight was going to be an interrogation, I would have prepared myself a little better mentally. “For such work does hold a financial gain to it as well.”

                A small dip of my head to him. “While I am sure that might woo some people with lesser morals, Lord Gaara, you can rest assured that my uncle and I have no want of material wealth. Surely the small portions we have taken from our trades as a whole can verify what I am saying.”

                The small pause that follows has me wondering if he believes me or not. After all, he had every right to be distrustful of us. A band of civilians wielding such power and political authority on international grounds needed to be monitored closely. All the policies and legalities they’d tied to our profession over the years reassured me of that.

                “As your ledgers have proven.” He finally concurs. I almost sigh in relief. So he had seen my work and known I spoke true! “Very meticulously kept, may I add. Have you been your uncle’s chief adviser for some time now?”

                A tight-lipped smile. “Ah, no, I suppose not in terms of how long he has been doing this. Only four years, soon to be five when the new year is upon us.”

                “You can’t be any older than sixteen.” Temari adds with a sense of wary awe. Her eyes narrow as they sweep over me, slow and almost rudely judgmental. “So a child has been booking logs for him all these years?”

                “Seventeen, milday.” I correct her without offense. “And yes, I suppose a child I was when all of this started. But,” My smile grows a fraction to hide the pain just below my surface. “If it saves my uncle of unnecessary heartache and strife, I would gladly do it for fifty years to come if need be.”

                “You are very close with your uncle.” Another observance from Gaara.

                “I am.” My throat tightens. “He is all I have left in this world, so he is very dear to me.”

                A silence follows when no one knows what is best to say following such a statement. I did not know how much any of these people knew, nor did I want to bring back to life that horrible tragedy that burdened me still. Not that they did not understand tragedy. After all, hadn’t the man beside me killed others in cold blood before without blinking?

                “Must be bland to be stuck here without him then.” Kankuro finally finds something to say, and we all breathe a little easier. “Have anything entertaining to do until he returns?”

                I’m not sure if it’s an invitation for him to entertain me, nor do I want it to be. “I am rarely bored, so do not fret on my behalf. There are always books to be read, music to be studied, plants to be tended to, and night skies to be examined when the weather proves clear.”

                “A gardener, hm?” Temari and Kankuro both glance at their brother beside me. “Any plants you like in particular?”

                A dry chuckle. “I enjoy them all, but sadly, the desert terrain and climate does not allow for many to grow. Succulents are lovely in their own way.” I smile lightly as the image of my indoor oasis lingers on my thoughts. “And they seem to last for quite some time with or without tending, which is all very well and good for my lifestyle on the road for most of the year.”

                “Succulents are like cacti, right?” Kankuro waves his fork in the space between us.

                “Yes.” Gaara and I speak at the same time, which gets a laugh out of his siblings and an embarrassed blush from me. He gestures for me to continue if I wish. After small cough to clear away my discomfort, I do. “Though not all succulents are cacti.”

                “Gotcha.” Another bemused chuckle shared by the two older siblings.

                The meal is shortly followed by some dessert and tea, then much to my relief, it is over. Temari nabs Kankuro by the collar when he attempts to say something to me, much to his dismay and my delight. “Nuh uh, mister. You’re on dish duty tonight. Gaara,” A brief glance at her youngest brother. “Walk her home, hm?”

                Gaara stands to his feet. “Very well.” A sidelong glance meant for me. “Let’s be on our way then.”

                We walk in silence. I’m happy. My mind has been smashed, flipped over, and fried in the scant hour or two I’d spent in their household. All I want to do is pull up a hot bath, soak in some mint-infused water, and sleep away the odd predicament this had all been. I didn’t like people- didn’t like smiling and talking as if the world around me revolved the same way it did for them. Not many people understood that, nor did I think anyone ever would when it came to me.

                My eyes are on the sky above as we amble back down the narrow pathways of the village. I know all of the constellations and their positions in the late summer sky, their stories echoing in my veins as the recollection steadies me. Gaara’s gaze flits to me from time to time, but if he thinks me odd or rude, he makes no comment. It’s the first time other than my uncle that someone’s respected my silence, and I feel a strange surge of respect for the equally odd man beside me.

                “Thank you for escorting me home.” I know my manners and dip into a slight bow when we reach the house. “And please thank your siblings again for the meal and the discussion we all partook in.”

                A small nod of his head. “Be sure to tell your uncle I wish to discuss some things with him upon his return.”

                “Of course.” A dip of my head in return. “Good evening, Lord Gaara.”

                “Good evening, Aylin.” And with that said, he turns on his heel and heads for home.

*

                “I don’t want to.” I whisper through the door, heart in my throat. “Please don’t make me do this.”

                A sigh from my uncle on the other side. He’s been back for a short time now, and as happy as I am to have him home, I know I’ve brought more troubles upon us both from my correspondences with the royal siblings. He met with Lord Gaara and found him an oddly agreeable sort of man whose no-nonsense diplomacy made him a splendid tactical leader if not a very personable one. Apparently, it was made note of that Kankuro was quite fond of me, and my uncle, knowing he wasn’t in a position to say otherwise, offered that I perhaps join them for the starlight festival in the incoming weeks. And Gaara, obviously looking out for his own brother’s well-being, found no qualms with taking him up on his offer.

                I try not to complain, but it’s almost unbearable not to do so now that there was no escaping this romantic connection that lacked unification and love between us. Kankuro’s kind, if not a little sheepish, and despite being obviously eccentric, he means well. The little visits to awkwardly say hello turn into hesitant questions for a small meal or coffee break, and soon, it seems these dates have become a regular occurrence. I tell myself at first that he would grow bored with me as time went on, but if anything, it had only made his attraction grow stronger. Perhaps he never had a woman sit and listen to him chat about puppets, crafts, and the various other topics of interest he possessed. I would never know for I would never dare ask such a thing.

                “I’m sorry, my dear.” His lament filters under my bedroom door and into the space where I’m curled up. The violet gown I’ve chosen is now undoubtedly wrinkled, but I do not care. Perhaps a slightly disheveled appearance will be enough to knock whatever sense of infatuation Kankuro held for me out of his system completely. “But you know we are not in a position to say no. He’s a nice man.  A little odd, I suppose, with that eccentric face paint though- no offense to him or his siblings, but the whole lot of them are a bit skewed from normal, hm?”

                I would have usually scoffed at his teasing banter, but I was in no mood for it tonight. The fact that Kankuro was accompanying me wasn’t the thing that churned my stomach and made the hairs on my skin rise. It was this festival. And the excessive amount of a certain thing I was deathly afraid of.

                A knock echoes down through the hall. My uncle sighs. “Guess that must be him. Shall I tell him you need a minute, or-“

                “No.” I grit my teeth and stand to my feet, knowing that prolonging the inevitable would only make this already tedious night all the more stressful. “I’m coming.”

                Kankuro’s all smiles when I open the doorway. There’s a quick hello to my uncle and a promise to have me back before the villagers get too rowdy with excessive drinking. Uncle excuses himself to finish up some work, and I watch him close the door behind us with a look of apology meant solely for me and reasons we would leave unspoken.

                We amble around the outer area of the whole festival, stopping by little trinket shops and the like hoping to make some profit on an auspicious evening such as this one. Kankuro seems keen on showing me off to everyone, and I have the sneaking suspicion he thinks that the attraction runs both ways between us. I don’t have the heart nor the strength to tell him otherwise. My unspoken prayer was that he’d realize soon enough on his own. That would make things a great deal easier in the long run.

                He chats about places we’ve both traveled to, and it’s a nice distraction from the hustle and bustle going on all around us. There’s a few added diversions as we stop to chat with people we’re both acquainted with in the village, and the longer I stay and talk with everyone’s eyes on us, calculating and questioning as natural curiosity made them, the more I want to run home to my uncle and stay inside for several days straight. My only hope is that he’ll wish to stop for a bite of eat or something soon, and we’ll be distracted from the one thing I hoped to avoid all together.

                Seems as though fate was constantly turning its back to me this evening, however.

                “Just about time, isn’t it?” He lowers his gaze and smiles down at me, violet face paint rippling as the kind expression settles. I smile lightly back, nausea growing within me when I realize just what it is he is talking about. “Come on then. Let’s get a good look!”

                He takes me by the hand and nudges us both through pockets of the gathering crowd. I can smell the wood and the tinge of chemicals they were laced with to make the fires blast to life. A scream bottles up within me, and no matter how much I try to slip my hand out of Kankuro’s hold, he won’t let up. Two things are dreadfully certain about what was to come: I was going to be sick. And I was going to embarrass myself.

                Wood. Flame. Fire. Smoke.                                                                       

                 The words are slurring into an incoherent string as my fear swells. I can see the unlit bonfires, but my mind is on the charred rubble still fresh in my memories even after almost seven years. Mama. Papa. My cousins and aunt. Gone. The flames threatening to eat me too had they been given the chance.

                The selected villagers honored in tonight's event walk forward with the torches. A cheer from the others gathered around us, but no other noise is emitted. Not from me at least. I’m trapped- clamped tight to Kankuro’s side as they take one step, then another, and throw the torches with another surging shout rising from the onlooking citizens. The man finally releases his hold on me to clap his hands together with added exuberance for the start of the night long tradition of telling tales while sitting around the bonfires under the starlit sky, and I take my chance without a second thought.

                I’m running. Panting. Crying. Everyone is surging towards the square set up for the nocturnal celebration, and I’m going in the opposite direction.

                It’s all a blur to process. Noise. Heat. Eyes. Oh gods, too many eyes.

                Home is too far. I won’t make it. I slump down against the back end of another sandstone building and vomit into the cool sand beside me. My whole body is trembling. I can’t stop. The little girl who had been victim to it all controls me, and I’m nine again. A whimper for my mother is on my lips, and I cup my hands over my mouth as the gnashing wails within me threaten to spill.

                A sudden caress of sand against my cheek calms me. I think it to only be the wind, but when there is no cool breeze that follows, my rationalization is that my muddled mind is merely playing tricks on me. I sniff back the last remaining tears as the sand settles again. Linger out here too much longer and I’d really look like the biggest fool out there.

                Slow footsteps crunch against the granules of sand beside me. My head jerks back, and I’m afraid. Afraid that it’s Kankuro and he’ll try to cradle me in his arms to make this whole ordeal sickly sweet with feigned romantic tenderness.

                But when I meet the unblinking eyes of his brother, I’m all the more terrified.

                “F-forgive me.” The words are forced from my clenching throat. A hand runs briskly over my eyes then presses against my nose to rid my face from any accumulated moisture. “I-I-“

                A hand extends a handkerchief down to me and nothing more. I take it cautiously and blow my nose. He continues to remain silent as I compose myself, dark-rimmed eyes drifting across the night sky above us in a polite and detached manner to leave me be.

                I lift the dampened square of linen back up to him, but he shakes his head as he makes no attempt to reclaim it. “I’ll let Kankuro know you’ve returned home.” He turns on his heel. “So do not worry on his behalf.”

                A grateful comment is on my wobbling lips, but he’s gone before I can utter it. No questions, no overwhelming concern. It was in that moment I felt a spark of compassion for the one man in this village I never thought deserved it before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all who are reading this. I hope you all are having a nice week. Be sure to eat/sleep properly and do things you enjoy. Until next time!


	3. Entwine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Such a busy, busy week. I hope all of you are doing well. As always, I hope this story brings a little joy to your life. Please enjoy!

              “One last trip,” My uncle singsongs as we haul the trunks for our things out into the main living space of our sandy home. His silver eyes have a cheery glint to them, and I knew he enjoyed anticipating the prolonged stay we would have in Konoha shortly. The weather in the Leaf was nice; cool, rainy, but full of forest life that always filled me with this tangible sense of calm. “And then a few winter months to get ready for this chaotic cycle to start all over again, my dear.”

               I smile. “It’ll be nice to just go on a trip with you again. And I’m sure the others are in thanks for a much needed break. Being on the road away from family and friends is not an easy thing to manage.”

               “Your compassionate heart becomes you, Aylin.” He smiles. I roll my eyes, knowing I really was anything but. All that mattered to me was seeing my uncle happy. After the tragedy that had once threatened to rid us both of any happiness for the future, I would give anything to protect what little joy we both had. “One I hope will not go to waste as you grow old.”

                “And bitter.” I quip, hand positioned dramatically on my hip. He laughs. “Anyway,” I move to press a kiss to his cheek. “No one wants a heart like mine nowadays. It’s a more bodily attraction over anything else, I’m afraid.”

                “Are you speaking of Kankuro?” I frown as he hits the nail right on the head. The man had been keen on visiting me even more so after my sudden departure at the festival. He asked no questions- probably believing whatever excuse his brother had given on my behalf- and seemed all the more insistent about making sure I knew he wished to look out for me. The sentiment was well received, but the affection behind it was not at all welcome. “Ah.” My uncle sighs as he seals the last trunk shut. “Well, my dear, the more you drag this on, the more inclined he is to believe you hold some affection for him. Let us be honest: could you be happy if he asked for your hand in marriage?”

                “No.” The immediate answer makes me even more frustrated than I already was. “But who am I to say no if he does asks? He’s part of the Kazekage clan.” I frown. “And no one goes against their wishes.”

                A small hum. “I suppose you’re right. Well,” A smile finds itself on his lips. “Let us be glad that we will be rid of this place and its privileged few for a short while, hm?”

                “Indeed.” I find the strength to smile myself. “Maybe he will just forget about me in the time we are away and find a new muse to ensnare his heart.”

                Oh gods, how cruelly ironic Fate seemed to play its hand.

                The morning of our departure, I yawn into my hands as we await our guards for the four day journey to make their appearance. We have our cart loaded, items accounted for and stored correctly, and our own items toted to see us through the short two week time we would be away. A nice, much needed vacation to clear our minds and just.. I don’t know, be free.

                A good natured whistle from behind us that I immediately recognize. Oh gods. I’m glad to be facing the other way so no one can see the scowl on my face. My hands tighten against me. Please tell me this was all one-

                “Aylin!” A hand smooths across my back onlt moment after the call of my name registers. I turn my head ever so slightly, and yep, there he is. Kankuro in all his face-painted glory is smiling right down at me as he presses me into his side. “Morning.”

                “Morning, Kuro.” His face brightens at the sound of the nickname he’d forced me to use for familiarity’s sake. “What are you doing here?”

                A look of confusion overtakes him. “They didn’t tell you? We’ll be accompanying you down to Konoha. Seeing as we were already planning to take a trip ourselves, it seemed the most productive to line it up with your stay.”

                I turn to look over my shoulder, and sure enough, his siblings are there, looking mildly out of place as my uncle distracted himself with his last minute checks of our inventory. I hadn’t seen either of them for a long time, and the sudden reunion seems to be ill-met on both sides. My face smooths as I turn to look at Kankuro’s grinning features again. If this could have one word attached to it, it was this: hell.

                “I had no clue.” I attempt to play off my disappointment with a curious question. “You all have business in the city?”

                A flash of teeth. “More personal pleasure than business I would say. Though Gaara seems to have nothing else on his mind since he’s taken up the ungodly task of becoming the next Kazekage.”

                I’m tempted to look at his brother, but I know better than to do so. A strange swarm of nervousness hits me when I think of him. He had seen me weak. Broken, even. And I was afraid of what sort of treatment he’d offer me in the interactions following.

                “Ah, I see.” My lips are forced a fraction higher. “What an unexpected surprise.”

                We set off not long afterwards completely in silence. Temari and Kankuro break out into a conversation of their own not long into our journey across the heat-swept sand dunes, not at all bothered by the heat or the long walk ahead of them. Gaara remains somewhere behind us, eyes always scanning, always watching, as if he didn’t trust the calm terrain around us for a moment. I sit beside my uncle and try not to brood as the unhappiness within me swells to a new level.

                Camp is set not long after afternoon falls across the desert, and the small cave the country used to manage the day and half journey to the border is soon arranged to hold all five of us. Kankuro beckons me over to help with dinner, but thankfully Uncle excuses me to help him tend to the horses just in the nick of time. The man seems a little downhearted as I walk away, and I’m afraid that he’ll just find another excuse later on to keep me by his side.

                “I’m sorry, Aylin.” My uncle murmurs as I slide a hand over the mare’s sleek coat. “Had I known they were coming, I would have warned you beforehand.”

                I frown. “I know.” I press my nose against the horse’s neck and blink back tears. “Uncle, I’m afraid.”

                “Why child?” A slight edge to his voice. “Have they done something to frighten you?”

                A quick shake of my head. “No, but I feel it. Their unspoken desires to warp me into something I am not. And for us all to travel together now… I can’t help but think it all staged.”

                “Would you like me to speak with him?” A hand rests kindly against my shoulder blade. I tremble from the fatherly touch and can’t help but think of my own father burned to ashes where he slept. “Because I will if you wish me to. No man should ever have the power to coerce you to do something you are not willing to do. You are not a prize to be won my dear. You are a woman who deserves to speak her own mind and make her own decisions about the path of her future.”

                “It is not so simple.” I utter weakly. My face is turned just enough to give him a wobbling smile. “Not all of us are as fortunate as you and Aunt Esen were in finding a love as true and pure as tales always conjure.”

                He removes his hand from my back to cup my cheek instead. The look on his whiskered face is sorrowful. “But you deserve such a love. More than anyone else on the face of this planet, your tale deserves a blissfully happy ending.”

                “Thank you, uncle.” I turn away, heart aching in my chest at how badly it wanted that irrational wish to become reality. “Please, may I have a moment to myself?”

                “Of course.”

                I stay and calm my nerves for a few moments longer. A small song is chanted under my breath, and the feeling of the horses nearby helps me find my center again. With one last deep inhale and exhale, then a kiss to the mare’s velvety cheek, I make myself walk back to join the others smiling even though I was sobbing just below the surface.

**

                Three more days. Three more nights.

                While not as bad as I originally thought the journey to the village hidden in the Leaf would be, the travel on a whole was not so entirely pleasing as to say I enjoyed myself. Uncle keeps me preoccupied for most of the day, and there are often times when I forget the other three siblings joining us to the point that my usual reactions- unrestrained and dripping with sarcasm as they were- come bounding out of me with no control. It’s only when I see the curious, half-amused look on Temari’s face and Kankuro’s barely restrained laughter that I find myself drifting back into the disgruntled, silent mood I’d been harboring.

                Gaara is actually decent company whenever the odd and rare occasion we happen to be in the same place at the same time occurs. He seems to have taken up the duty of overnight watches since we started this trip out of the country, and I can’t help but wonder how in the world he manages to stay up all hours of the day and feel not even the slightest tinge of exhaustion when evening fell. I then remember the demon harbored not so inconspicuously within him and realize he is not a human as I somehow believed him to be. Regardless, he keeps his space when I can’t sleep and need to walk around to calm myself from my nightmares. And when I venture back to sit around the dying flames of the fire silently near him, he remains as stoic and unreachable as ever.

                I find myself unable to resist talking to him our last night before reaching Konoha. Everyone else has already fallen asleep, and after hours of relentless tossing and turning to no avail, I decide it best not to force sleep if it did not wish to come. He’s sitting cross-legged against a log just beside our dimly burning fire, seafoam eyes alert as they miss nothing even at this time of night. A small nod when I gesture to the far end of the log, and I venture cautiously to the fireside to put a small pan of water to heat so we can at least distract ourselves with some tea.

                He takes his mug with another dip of his head. I wrap my shawl closer around my body and turn the warm ceramic mug between my hands, too distracted with the thoughts in my head to even want a drink. Kankuro had seemed very insistent about his desire to have me shown around the city once our business trading was all settled, and knowing me, I had merely smiled and accepted his wishes as they came. Temari looked less than pleased about having me join in on their private outing; the sneaking suspicion that she was highly distrustful of me still echoed true with each interaction we had.

                A slight movement from Gaara. I watch as he slowly places another log onto the fire, only to shrink away subconsciously as the flames crackled with a surge of power from the new fuel he had added to it. His seafoam eyes catch my flinching jerk and linger on me for a moment longer than I was comfortable with. I frown into the darkened dirt between us, hating that he saw into me more so than anyone else I had ever met outside of my uncle.

                “How much do you know?” I whisper, finally releasing the one question that had been on my mind since the night of the festival when he had intervened on my behalf. “About me, that is.”

                “Rest assured that your secret is safe with me.” A guarded answer that reassures me that he knows as much as I dreaded he did. “I have no intention of divulging it to anyone.” He pauses. “Not even Kankuro.”

                I dip my head, feeling a little frailer than I was comfortable with. “Thank you. I-” A lump in my throat restricts me from saying more. The mug is lifted to my lips and I take a long sip. “I appreciate it.”

                Silence fills the air between us for several minutes following. I find myself looking at him again, a slow, curious sweep of my eyes that takes in his blazing crimson hair and odd facial tattoo all the way down to the mud-crusted boots on his feet. If he’s uncomfortable, he makes no indication of it. It’s only until I realize his rank and his title that I avert my eyes to forest around us.

                “Forgive me, Lord Gaara. I-”

                “No need for apologies.” He cuts in gently. I can see his relaxed stance out of the corner of my eye and know he isn’t coercing me with petty words. “Curiosity is natural when you’re confronted with something odd.”

                “Hm.” I hum, knowing he was by far the oddest person I’d ever met. But it wasn’t in an off-putting way. Not at all. “Though I am sorry… that people do that to you so often. I would find it unnerving.”

                “Do you not notice the stares of others upon you?” A slight amazement in his voice. Not awed or shocked. Just a little amused. “For I wonder the same thing.”

                I turn to look at him, now unable to suppress my confusion. “Pardon?”

                “Ah, forgive me.” A pause. He looks a little uncomfortable now, probably not intending to venture onto this topic. “It just appeared that you attract the eyes of many from my observations.”

                _So you’ve been observing me?_ The witty question does not leave my head. I smile into the forest beyond, oddly not perturbed by the sentiment. Of course he was watching me. With his brother close to think himself my suitor, I’m sure Gaara wished to keep an eye on me as a precaution to securing his brother’s happiness.

                “As you’ve said before,” I pause to take a sip of my tea. “It’s only natural to be intrigued by something that breaks the mold.”

                No response. The fire burns low now and allows the glowing embers to pulsate in the darkness nearby. I wonder if he will throw another log on, but he makes no indication that he will move in the near future. He seems comfortable to the point of near contentment. Which is a little off-putting since it’s me that he feels at ease around.

                “If you wish to rest,” I’m sheepish, knowing it would be rude to not say anything. “I could wake my uncle. Or stay on watch myself for a short time.”

                A bemused chuckle that lasts only a moment. “No need to worry for me. I’m content. Sleep does not come easy.”

                “Is it because of what lies within you?” I clamp a hand over my mouth when the almost childish curiosity comes flying from my lips. The fear surges within me. Had I just signed my death wish by venturing onto such a topic we all left unspoken? “Oh, please forgive me. I didn’t.. I sh-”

                He stretches his legs in the dirt as I stutter incoherently. “No need to be frightened about incurring my anger. You won’t be the first nor the last to ask such a thing. But yes,” A slight fidget on the log that I feel beneath me. “It is.”

                 I look into the dirt and frown. There are so many things I wish to ask of him, but none seem polite enough to ask anymore. He was a mystery. A conundrum. After hearing so many demonic tales of his rampages as a child, seeing a man so utterly composed and level-headed jarred me from lining the two images of him inside my mind. I wasn’t afraid. Just intrigued. It must have taken a lot of willpower, self-restraint, and a steadfast resolution to change from maniac monster into manageable man.

                He’s forced to put a log now that the fire is almost out, but he does so with extra caution now. I still flinch when the flames are stoked again, but not as strongly as the previous time. My now empty mug is placed on the ground beside me so that I can rub at my arms. It’s hard keep the two sides of me in check with him around. And I’m terrified that one day I’ll show so much of myself that this man soon to be my leader would know more about me than anyone on this planet save for my uncle.

                “A tale.” I murmur, hating that I had to revert to an almost childish option to keep my sanity intact. “Would you be averse to me telling one?”

                “No.” His stance relaxes a little more on the other side of the log. A good sign. “Go ahead.”

                The story of the sun goddess and her daughter offered to the spirit who ruled over death had been one of my favorites ever since I was a child. How tragic it was for the goddess to watch her only offspring drift into death, the world growing cold as her light seeped away to create the two cold seasons of the year. And the unexpected love this young goddess had found literally at death’s doorstep that could only be enacted for half a year for the rest of eternity. A tragic tale of romance and filial piety that told the seasons’ story as much as it did the duties of a daughter.

                By the end where the goddess parts one last time with her lover to return and herald in the spring, I’m yawning. Gaara’s been silent for the entirety of the tale, but he looks at ease. Contemplative even.

                I’m about to excuse myself to finally get an hour or two of sleep when an unexpected question falls from his lips. “Do you believe such a tale can be transcribed onto humanity? That even the darkest of souls is worthy of a love that shines into eternity?”

                A deep inquiry that carried more weight than I felt comfortable delving into. Was he speaking of himself? Or merely pondering an existential conundrum about the underlying truth of the tale?

                “I don’t see why not.” I manage before another yawn overtakes me. “All souls are meant to find their counterparts on this planet. Even the ones who are put through more tragedies than others. Those,” I remember my uncle’s saddened comment from our first day on this journey, and my voice softens even more. “I think, deserve to have it most of all.”

                Silence. His eyes seem in another world now, no longer conscious of the night still thick around us or perhaps even my presence. After a moment, he returns to this realm and offers the fire before us a more somber gaze.

                “I should retire myself.” I stand to my feet, wincing slightly as the strain of standing after sitting for a prolonged period of time hits my limbs. “Good evening, Lord Gaara.”

                “Good evening, Aylin.” A little warmth to the usually emotionless farewell. “Thank you for the company. And the tale in turn.”

                I dip my head, knowing I really hadn’t done anything other than appease myself at his expense. He waits until I am stumbling back into my tent to throw a few logs onto the fire, sending a dancing copper light over the thin walls of canvas and over my eyes. And as I see his silhouette standing, as if frozen, I can’t help but imagine the lonesome king of death waiting- oh so painfully waiting- for his lover to return to him once more.

 


	4. Intersect

 

                Rain.

                Pelting, drenching droplets of water flooded the cobblestone walkways of the city and threatened to soak me to the bone as I ran back to our inn. A gleeful smile is tugging at my lips as I dash along with the hem of my dress lifted off the ground by one of my hands, targeting every puddle able to be reached on the short walk I had left. Gods, how long it had been since I last saw rain? Tasted it on my lips and let it caress every inch of exposed skin I had until I shivered with cool delight? This was just another reason I loved Konoha and longed to return here.

                Uncle’s bemused smirk only grows when I come into view- dripping but grinning as I’m sure he expected me to be- but the humor soon overtakes him and he’s bent over in laughter. I can’t help but laugh myself, glad that there was a little humor to be had between us. In recent days, there hadn’t been much cause for amusement. Not with our work, and certainly not with Kankuro’s revitalized adoration.

                Our differing duties in this city had kept us all separated from the moment we entered a few days prior. I’m glad for the almost brain-numbing amount of things we needed to do in terms of getting our stock accepted to the various merchants approved to take our wares as well as the incoming business ventures needed to be finalized for the goods we would be returning with from this country. And with our homeland so withdrawn and isolated from the rest of the world in terms of geography and government, the necessary stock we brought back from any trip was needed more than let on.

                “I’ll get changed.” I manage while pointing to our rooms not far off from where we were in the adjacent meeting room of sorts. “Pull those records out for me, hm?”

                “Be sure to dry yourself well.” He teases with a wink. “Wouldn’t want our log book holding evidence of your rain-induced frolic, hm?”

                My hair is wrapped in a towel and twisted on top of my head, and I amble out to get started on the long process of recording all our transactions during this trip. It’s easy to get lost in the row of numbers, names, and items, and it takes a shake from uncle to draw me back to the world around us. There’s an apologetic smile on my lips as he shakes his head in dismay, but the somber look on his face slowly draws my own grin down.

                “Are you going to join him for dinner?”

                 I look at the wall, then back down at my work. “I gave him my word, so yes. I have to.”

                “This whole ordeal makes you unhappy.” He lets out a harsh sigh. “Which in turn makes me unhappy.”

                I frown. “There’s nothing to be done about it. We both know this is as opportune a relationship for me as possible. He’s nice enough, if not a little eccentric, and he seems to wish me every happiness.”

                “But you do not love him. Despite that, can you wish him to be happy? And how can you say that you will be happy after the less than pleasant things about you both come out of hiding?”

                My arms lift to tighten across my chest. “I don’t know, but I hope that he’ll…” An uncomfortable pause as my insecurities swell. “Be kind enough not to use them against me.”

                “And if he isn’t?”

                “Well,” I look at the floor now. “Let us both hope that the relationship hasn’t ventured too far that it cannot be broken off.”

                Kankuro’s as energetic and delighted to see me as ever when he stops by alone late in the afternoon. He’s dressed the same as ever, purple faint paint bright against his lightly tanned cheeks, and I know he enjoys the vision of me in the flowing cerulean gown I’ve put on. There’s a quick greeting to my uncle and we’re off to amble through the streets of Konoha.

                He fills me in on some of the things he’s managed to do while we’ve gone our separate ways, and I listen only half-heartedly while taking in the cluster of trees dotting various parts of the forest. I wonder how our horses are faring in the little natural reserve one of the clans here occupies, and if the complex with all the dogs I liked to frequent while here has gotten any new additions. Part of me knows it’s rude not to give the man beside me my undivided attention, but for the life of me I can’t concentrate on the mind-numbing list of names and details rattling off his tongue.

                We stop by a nice little restaurant selling skewers of various meats and a plethora of side dishes. Kankuro asks if I wish for alcohol, and I politely decline, knowing the last thing I wanted was any sort of liquor on my stomach when it was already this tense. He lets me order whatever I want, a sweeping gentlemanly gesture I’m sure he’d picked up in the last few years of becoming a man, and I opt for some light food with a side dish of some stewed vegetables in a spicy broth.

                He talks about some things we could do in the city when our trades were finalized, and I offer what I hope to be a genuine agreement to his offers. It’s clear he hasn’t notice my wavering attention this late into the evening, and I doubt he will by the time dinner is over. My only worry now is that this meal will drag on for much longer than I anticipated.

                A whistle comes from the street just outside the restaurant towards the end of our meal and interrupts the one-sided conversation the man beside me has been offering since the moment this outing started. Kankuro turns at the noise, and a grin breaks over his face before he lifts a hand in greeting. I turn, stomach clenching, but soon find my worries turning into a mixture of awe and relief as the vaguely familiar face of a Konoha citizen comes into view. Was he too a friend of Kankuro’s?

                “Kiba.” Kankuro greets the man as he steps into the restaurant with a wolfish grin. A small bump of fists between them that is as comical to watch as I’m sure it was to enact. “Already starting your nightly prowl?”

                “Early bird catches the worm, my good sir. Or in my case, a tasty woman.” His golden eyes drift to me, and the twinkle within them signals that he recognizes me too. “Though it seems you’ve already caught yourself one for the evening.” A small dip of his head to me. “Lovely to see you again, miss intruder. Though I can’t help but be curious to know how you and good old Kuro here happen to know each other.”

                “A tale for another time, wolf boy.” I grin, much to his enjoyment and Kankuro’s growing confusion. “That is, if I’m allowed to come by and see the dogs.”

                A joking bow. “As if I could ever say no to such a pleasing lady. Though I’m sure if I did refuse, you’d still find a way to hang halfway over a lower wall and coax the dogs to you.”

                “Let’s let bygones be bygones, hm?” I’m red in the face. He would never let me live it down. “I’ll stop by tomorrow then.”

                “Sounds good.” A grin split between me and Kuro now. “You can come along too if you want. Wouldn’t want you thinking I was secretly wooing your woman or something.”

                Not even a slight embarrassed reaction from the man across from me. “Sounds good.” A happy tilt to his voice. “We’ll both see you then.”

                Kankuro waits until Kiba’s disappeared to give me an amused smirk. “Care to share the story of how you met him?”

                “Ah, of course.” My cheeks take on a bit of color. He would probably get a hearty laugh out of this one. Uncle had all those years ago when it had happened, and he always pestered me about it to this day. “So… I suppose this was about two years ago on a trip here with my uncle. The weather had been nice, and I went out walking to explore the city a little better. Long story short, I heard some of the dogs barking and got curious. Realized I wanted to pet the dogs but wasn’t sure if I could, and silly old me found a lower wall on the far end of the complex and beckoned the dogs to me as I half-slumped onto it. Got stuck like that,” I fidget with my braid as an absentminded chuckle leaves my lips. “And uh, Kiba, had to come help me. He’s let me visit the dogs ever since.”

                Like I thought, he finds it nothing sort of hilarious. The man’s slumped over on the table, racked with laughter, and I can’t help but giggle myself at his unrestrained reaction. He rights himself after a minute or two of solid laughing to press a finger into each of his tear ducts now streaming with a few humored tears.

                “You really are something else, Aylin.” An amused smile. “The more and more I get to know you, the more in awe I am of who you are.”

                A hand lifts to scratch nervously at the back of my neck. If only he knew what shadows tethered these light and humorous moments within me. “T-thank you.”

                We finish our meal and Kankuro returns me to the entrance of the inn. He’s keen on getting me all the way up to my room safely, but I reassure him that it isn’t necessary. An awkward moment ensues when he hesitates to say good night, and I’m glad when he merely dips his head with no romantic gestures to muddle this already complicated wave of emotions with me.

                “I’m back.” I call as I amble into the room. I shuck my shoes off absentmindedly and run a hand through my now loose hair with a long sigh. “Uncle, have you eaten? I co-”

                The words come to a sudden halt as I see my uncle and Gaara both sitting around the low table in the main living space with the log book from this trip open between them. The redhead’s seafoam eyes drift over me then back to the table, not at all perturbed by my sudden appearance. I’m anything but calm. What in the world was he doing here?

                “Welcome back, Aylin.” Uncle Nobu offers me a light smile. “As you can see, Lord Gaara’s decided to pay us a visit. He’s interested in how our commerce has gone with the Leaf so far.”

                I lower my hand from my hair and clench it by my side. “Oh.” My eyes drift across the table, and I find a quick enough excuse when I notice nothing’s been offered to our unexpected- and to be honest, unnecessary- guest yet. “Let me get some tea for us all, then. Lord Gaara,” A small dip of my head when his attention returns to me. “Should I procure some food as well?”

                “Thank you, but I’ve eaten.” He’s as polite and detached as ever. “No need to make extra work for yourself on my behalf.”

                I offer a small nod before hightailing it into the small kitchen the inn offered as a luxury amenity with its room. A small grumble that I couldn’t rid myself of this family no matter how hard I tried. Not that Gaara was as annoying or invasive as his brother, but the constant sort of presence he was beginning to have in my life was not welcome. Not at all.

                I place the mugs on the table and dutifully pour Gaara, then my uncle, then myself some of the aromatic tea. A murmur of thanks from both men, but then silence. A heavy, uncomfortable silence that I’m sure none of us wanted to break.

                “How was your meal, Aylin?” Uncle finally asks as the redhead across from me begins to turn through the log book I’ve been constantly updated in the last week. “Anything interesting happen?”

                “The meal was very nice.” I murmur a little against my better judgment since Gaara was within earshot. “Lord Kankuro was pleasant and amiable company, as he always is. We did stumble upon someone we both are acquainted with here, and we’re going out to visit him tomorrow. Do you remember the young man who runs the complex of dogs, uncle?”

                A small chuckle I know is more because of me than Kiba. “How could I not?” A bemused look to Gaara now. “My niece is very fond of animals and plants alike. Anything that needs a nurturing touch beckons to her tenderhearted spirit. Sad that life on the road does not let her satiate such a love very often, so we are lucky for the times she can do as her heart desires.”

                I’m flushing from the base of my neck all the way up to my ears. A stammered apology is trapped on my unusable lips, and all I can squeak out is a shout of his name. “Uncle!”

                  “Hm?” He glances back at me, suddenly concerned by my wide-eyed embarrassed expression. “Have I said something wrong, my dear?”

                “N-no,” I avert my eyes to the wall to my right and pout. “But I think Lord Gaara would rather not hear any tales about me. He is clearly not here for that reason.”

                “No need to fret.” Uncle laughs away my concern. “You’re not offended by our change in subject, are you my lord?”

                I can feel Gaara’s eyes on me. Mine are still on the wall, burning with mortification that the topic was still on me and not something else. He must think me a complete simpleton from the way my uncle painted me. A woman who prided herself with caring for plants and animals had to have a screw loose.

                “Not at all.” His calm response hides whatever it is he is really thinking. “Though for you niece’s sake I suppose we should return to our previous topic.”

                The men sit and talk about the plans for inventory being brought back with us. I’m offered a question here or there, but knowing it wasn’t my place to interfere, I just sit quietly and refill their mugs of tea as needed. Its clear Gaara will be a good leader. His levelheaded questions as to imports and exports to meet the rising needs on both countries’ behalves show his concern for his people’s wellbeing as well as the pact made with this foreign land for them to benefit as well.

                “I see that you are doing a good job of boosting our commerce.” Gaara says at long last. I’m bone-deep exhausted from the tense talk going on so effortlessly between them, knowing that if he got even the slightest whiff of something he didn’t like, our time as a trading group would be snuffed out when he officially came to office. “Allow me to finally excuse myself for the evening. I am sure you and Aylin would like to retire soon.”

                “You’re alright, my lord.” Uncle dips his head reverently. “I have no qualms knowing you wish to monitor us and offer us suggestions when the desire hits you. Should I have Aylin walk you to your own inn for the evening?”

                Gaara gives a small shake of his head. “No need for that.” A look to me. I dip my head, knowing it was rude to keep the levelheaded look the way I might have when it was just the two of us awake in the darkened night where rank held no power. “I’ll bid you both good evening.”

                “He’s a very odd sort of man, isn’t he?” Uncle says a few minutes after Gaara’s left. He’s leaning back against the floor now, looking relaxed for the first time in what I assumed to be hours. “Walks up to our room unannounced, sits here and talks about finances as if he is talking about weather or some other frivolous topic, without hide nor hair of small talk in between. I find it very hard to be around him, don’t you?”

                “He is reserved, yes, and a little.. uh,” I make a face as the word alludes me for a moment. “Socially inept, I suppose. Though I can’t say he makes me uncomfortable.”

                Uncle laughs. “Well, to each their own I suppose. As long as he runs our country well and doesn’t revert to the actions he once took as a younger man, I have no qualms with him.”

                “So it really is true then.” I settle down on the floor again with a somber look to my uncle. “About the horrible things he did. All the people he murdered…”

                A slight change on my uncle’s face to something dark and a little foreboding. “He is a very powerful man, Aylin. Deceptively so from the way he carries himself now, but do not be fooled. If he wished to kill someone, a mere flick of his hand to enact that demon’s bloodlust within him and the deed would be done. You were too young to remember his murderous monsoons, but I do. And it haunts me to this day, the way he painted the sand red with the blood of anyone who the demon ordered him to end.”

                “Is that the reason you moved us all to reside at the outpost so suddenly?”

                An uncomfortable knitting of his brows. “Yes. Your father and I... we were afraid for the safety of our families. We thought we would save you all from the threat of being murdered but,” He reaches both of his hands up to hide his face from view. “It appears that it was all for naught.”

                I scramble across the floor to wrap my arms around him. He removes his hands from his face to crush me into him, trembling as the ugly visions of the charred outpost lingered on both of our minds. One threat removed, another suddenly upon our family. No wonder he was uncomfortable around Gaara. The man must have brought to life memories of a time Uncle must have wished to forget forever.

                “Promise me you will keep your space from him.” He murmurs as he holds me tight still. “I do not want to lose you, Aylin. Please promise me this.”

                “I’m in no danger, Uncle.” I console him softly as I laid my head on his shoulder. “Gaara wants nothing to do with me. But if you are so worried, I promise you that I will keep my distance from him.”

                “Thank you.” A frail, almost breathless response before he lets me go. A hand moves to cradle my cheek with a heavy, saddened gaze. “You are far too precious, Aylin, to be torn asunder by the darkness of this world. Not that I think him at all interested in you, but with your gaining proximity to his brother, I fear it will indirectly bring you both closer as well.”

                A sad smile on my face. “Don’t worry. Like you said, Gaara is an odd man who thinks of nothing but politics. I have no intention of getting any closer to him.” A dry chuckle. “I’m not foolish enough to throw myself into the mouth of hell. Not even for a moment.”

**

                “Oi, oi!” Kiba claps his hands together, bringing a little bit of order to the chaos of animals we are now immersed in. Kankuro yelps when a dog tugs at his tunic, grumbling slightly for the unruly charges of the grinning man on my other side. I’m oddly at peace, not at all bothered by the curious noses or attention-hungry mutts filling practically every space around me. “Behave yourselves! We have a lady among us!”

                The dogs calm a little, but it’s still loud and packed. Kiba turns to smile at me. “Well, have at it. I’ll be finishing up some chores nearby, so if you need me, just holler at the top of your lungs.”

                “I’m sure Kuro here will beat me to it,” I tease him, only to get a snort in response. “But thank you, Kiba. We’ll leave you to your work.”

                I wander around and greet all the dogs, sing-songing a praise about how lovely the shine in their coat was or how energetic they were. Kankuro’s a few steps behind me, mostly silent, though he does greet a dog or two himself when the mood hits him. I have a feeling he isn’t really an animal person, but the fact that he hasn’t wanted to leave yet reminds me that he’s doing this for me.

                “Didn’t think I could say this,” He laughs lightly after we’ve moved into another part of the complex to another group of dogs equally excited to greet us. “But you really do look even more beautiful being at ease in this place.”

                I turn to give him a small smile. The look on his face is slightly amused and a little endearing. My eyes return to canines around us, suddenly a little less animated than before.

                “Thank you.” I say finally, knowing it would be rude and impolite to not say it aloud. “Though I am sorry that you aren’t really enjoying yourself.”

                “Oh, but I am.” An oddly passionate reply. I know better than to glance back at him. “Being with you is as enjoyable as it gets.”

                My hand slows its run through a dog’s shaggy mane. I dreaded where this conversation was going. He wasn't going to propose here, was he? And what in the world would I say in return if he did?

                Instead, he speaks about the weather here and some things he was hoping to get done once we returned back to the Sand. I release a sigh of relief under my breath, glad that it wasn’t time to dread of a permanent relationship just yet. I didn’t love Kankuro. I didn’t love any man at this moment other than my uncle in a filial sense. And I was afraid, as this situation and many others was proving, that I might never fall romantically in love with anyone ever for as long as I lived.

                We meander around the grounds for a couple of hours, but as the day goes on and the sun increases its heat, the comfort of being outdoors no longer exists. Kiba’s still working, not at all bothered by the oddly warm autumn day, and the dogs around him are all intent on watching their master tidy up the land as they lounged around. Kankuro calls for him, and the man finally excuses himself from his work to see us off.

                “Had fun?” His golden lupine-esque eyes are on me. The smile growing on my face reassures him that I had. “Good.”

                “We should be off.” Kankuro places a hand on my shoulder. “Aylin here’s a busy lady so I need to get her back to her uncle before much longer.”

                Kiba winks. “Whatever you say, man. I’m glad to have had both of you here to visit.” A wickedly mischievous grin tugs his lips upwards. “Just make sure I get an invitation to the wedding, hm?”

                A laugh from the man beside me and a tense grin from me. Oh gods, how I hoped such an institution to be many, many moons away- perhaps even years. But from Kankuro’s not at all flustered reaction, I feared it might be one day soon. And this life- this precious existence tethered to nothing and no one other than myself- would no longer exist.

                “Such a hoot.” Kankuro comments about the other man once we’ve left the complex and walked a short ways away. “But a nice guy beneath it all.”

                I hum in agreement. “Have you two known each other long?”

                “About five years now. A lot has changed since then, but I’m not complaining. If it hadn’t, I doubt we could have been friends.”

                “Oh.” I suddenly remember the less than favorable ties between this country and our own only that short of a distance into the past. “Yes, I suppose so. Sunagakure wasn’t always as open to discussions on alliances as it is now.”

                A scoff. “You can say that again. Though,” He crosses his arm, a little subdued now. “Can’t say I blame them. It’d been a power struggle, and one that’s been as complicated to unravel as anything could be. We weren’t the friendliest country to begin with, and then Gaara…”

                “It must have been tough.” I comment with some sympathy when the awkward silence had gotten uncomfortable. Gods only knew what horrible tragedies this man had seen with his own eyes all from the actions of his younger brother. “For you especially. Dealing with that firsthand and trying to live your life as well.”

                A half-formed smile. “It’s sweet of you to worry for me, but what’s happened has happened. No point in lingering in the past. Gaara’s moving forward- our whole country is. Surely you see that as clearly as I do.”

                “Yes.” I can’t help but remember his brother and my uncle sitting side by side last night. “I do.”

                “All we have to do now is have some faith in some hope for change.” He says softly. “A world no longer torn by war or factions. A place with some hope to settle down, live life, ensure the next generation can have a future too.”

                He isn’t talking about the world. He’s talking about us- about our future together. I’m suddenly sick, hit with visions of a posh wedding, an awkward night of making love, and my body changing with the onset of age and childbearing. It was a future I’m sure he yearned for. A future he was trying to build with me even now. And I can’t see it. I can’t believe in it and think that it can really exist.

                “It would be nice.” I say finally, knowing it was what he wanted hear even if it wasn’t what I wanted for myself. “So stay optimistic.”

                A light brush of his hand against my own, but he does not take it in his own. The bile rises in my throat at the slight contact, and I try not to pull away. “Trust me.” His hopeful answer only makes me feel even more ill. “I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you yet again to everyone who is reading this work. I hope that you all are doing well. Until next week!


	5. Safeguard

               With the odd heat came a prolonged rainstorm that drenched the city of Konoha for days on end. Our trade relations are put to a halt, and the return home we were hoping to make is delayed until the grounds will be dry enough for the cart to traverse upon. It’s a dreary gray sort of blah that makes you want to do nothing but lay in bed and sleep.

                Uncle keeps me entertained when he can, but he is distracted with rerouting meetings that need to happen so our return inventory can be finally released to us. I stay inside of the inn and read some books I’ve brought along with me, glad that the torrential downpour keeps anyone from visiting. After parting from Kankuro, hating myself, and fearing for my future, I wanted to stay away from him until I could clear my head of all these pestering doubts and surges of weary hopelessness.

                Every sign was telling me to tell him I didn’t love-to tell him I couldn’t make him happy and that he couldn’t make me happy either. But every reason to stay silent battled those fears. I could very well put myself or Uncle under one threat or another to ensure his happiness even if no one else benefited.

                My dreams are even worse than usual, and I wake in a panic more often than usual. Uncle’s been jolted out of his own sleep the one time it’s really terrible, and he’s obviously burdened watching me sob and hyperventilate my way out of an ugly attack. The sleeplessness makes my already crumbling mood all the more sensitive, and it only deepens the closer my womanly cycle gets.

                Kankuro only stops by once but is kindly asked to come back at another time by my uncle. I’m asleep at the time and have no recollection of the visit actually happening, but the rain-soaked bouquet laying on the table reassured me that he really had come by. Uncle makes no indication of whether he was upset to be turned away. I can tell by the darkened glint in his silver eyes that he’s only one step away from giving my so-called suitor a taste of what was on his mind.

                Thankfully the weather clears and we all breathe a little easier knowing our plans no longer must be put on a back burner. Trade relations are finalized, stock is transferred to us, and finally- oh gods, how long awaited the day was- we were all on our way back to Sunagakure to await the other countries coming out of their winter chill for trade yet again. One year finished successfully with another one soon to begin with even greater aspirations tied to it.

                Kankuro’s all eyes for me, concerned to the point of being almost overbearing at the beginning of the journey. He seems to think me ill, which was not far from the truth. My womanly cycle had begun the night before, and I’m irritable, tired, and ready to be off the road. I reassure him not to worry, but it’s clear by his continued caring gestures that he has no intention of doing what I say.

                There’s a spacious plot of land halfway into our journey back with a stream cutting into it near the base of its steep incline. We make camp near the top, knowing the strategic advantage of having high ground in case we happen to be ambushed, and a call to go rinse off in the stream is promptly given. I’m too weary to make the strenuous down or climb back up again and murmur that I’d be retiring straightaway. A glance from all four of the others and a murmured comment from my uncle to feel better soon is all I get before hurrying into my tent.

                They’re all very cautious of making too much noise when they return, and the loathsome tears sting my eyes as I imagine them all talking about me now that I was out of earshot. I can see Kankuro’s concerned frown, Uncle’s tired smile as he tried to keep the other three comfortable for the sake of politeness, and the cool masks of Temari and Gaara as they both remain not at all fazed by my early withdrawal inside the tent. The pain in my abdomen makes it hard to think of sleep for some time, but after a while I finally succumb to the fatigue in my veins and drift away.

                It’s all one large nightmare when I dream. A horrible blob of blood, monsters, and shackles that burn into my skin like fire. A chilling laugh and a dripping whisper in my ear shortly follow: _You’re mine._ I don’t know who the voice belongs to, nor does it matter as the illogical terror keeps me captive. All I know is the torment of my body being torn asunder and rebuilt to someone else’s ideals.

                I rush blindly out of the tent, breath hitching in my throat as I barely contain a scream. The world’s spinning in slow loops. I don’t know where I am, who I am, or what is happening. A deep voice calls out to me and I take off after hearing that cruelly murmured statement from my nightmare envelop my ears again.

                A few hurried steps away and I’m suddenly tumbling down the hillside. My body rolls over itself several times down the steep incline, and the last slick step I’d taken leaves one of my ankles throbbing. I can’t tell if I’ve broken any bones or if there’s anything terrible wrong with me. I’m afraid. Nauseous. So tired of this darkness living within me that threatened to destroy me from the inside out that I didn’t know how much more I could take.

                “Aylin.” I recognize the voice now despite my panic attack: Gaara. “Breathe with me. Six slow counts in, then eight counts out. Slowly. Steady. Good. Very good. Can you flex your fingers in the grass? Ah, there. I see them. Keep flexing. Keep breathing. Slowly. A little more slowly now.”

                He’s patient. Calm. Attentive. The commands are simple and not at all forced upon me. I feel the anxiety slowly releasing its hold on me, and I’m aware of the cool dirt digging into my fingernails as I curl and uncurl my fingers at his command. There’s a breeze, cool but not freezing, and a hint of smoke from our fire up on top of the hill I’ve fallen down.

                When I open my eyes burning with tears I’ve ceased to spill since he’s soothed me into silence, he’s in the space just beside me, kneeling close but not too close as to overwhelm me. His seafoam eyes hold some emotion: concern, fear, compassion. The look clears when he notes my conscious gaze on him, and those eyes are unreadable again.

                “Are you alright?” He inquires softly as he settles a little more comfortably with added space between us.

                I wipe at my face then run a hand through my dirt-entangled hair. “Yes.” I croak as the raw tightness in my throat is unable to be overcome. “I think.”

                We sit in silence for a long time. I’m sure he does not want to force me to move prematurely, nor do I have the energy to move after being swept bare by the torrent of emotions trapped within me. I know I should apologize for forcing him to leave his post guarding our campsite so suddenly, but I can’t find the words. The shame within me makes me hate that he is always present when these terrors ensnare me. I knew he pitied me. And I hated pity more than anything else on this planet.

                “Can you stand?” He offers while standing to his own feet.

                I nod, thinking nothing of it. But when pressure is applied to my right ankle, I cry out in pain before sinking back into the dirt. Tears stream down as the violent throbbing jabs at the sensitive bones there. I’m not sure if I’ve broken it or merely sprained it, but one thing is certain: there was no way I was making it up the steep incline in the state I was in now.

                “Let me see.” He imposes himself on me and gingerly examines the swollen rise of skin. I whimper when his pale fingers press cautiously against the inflamed area, and he retracts them quickly with a small sigh. “Swollen and badly sprained. Forgive me for asking you to stand; I should have assessed the severity of your injuries first.”

                “Injuries?” I echo almost a little stupidly. Then I feel it- the burn of fresh air against a scrape on my forehead, arms, and shins. There would be bruises when morning came. Ugly ones. “N-never mind.”

                 Another moment of silence. This one awkward. A shift from the man beside me, and a long sigh as he probably mulls over what to do next.

                “Forgive me.” Is all he ends up saying before hoisting me in his arms.

                 A small squeak leaves my lips as I’m carried bridal-style against his torso all the way up the hill. His hands are warm against my sweat-drenched skin, pulsating a steady heat that is oddly comforting. His even breathing despite the strain reassures me that he’s calm. I don’t know how he can be. I’m anything but.

                He lowers me gingerly onto the ground a short distance from the fire and moves away. I cross my arms over my torso, burning with shame, hating that this was the way everything went down. Making myself look like a complete fool, then having to be carried like a child… He’d never let me live this down. Never.

                A blanket’s deposited against my shoulders a moment later. I tug it close to my body, suddenly aware that I’m in my nightgown and nothing more. There’s a mortified curiosity within me wondering how much he’d seen of my body, but I push the stupid thought away.

                _Moron._ I grumble to myself as he sits before me with a small medical tin in his hands _. As if he’s remotely interested in looking at you like that._

He’s gentle. So gentle with me it feels as though he thinks he will break me with any more force applied. The swollen ankle is bandaged neatly with only a few cries of pain bitten back on my behalf, and he makes a quick job of dabbing a salve into the scrapes and gashes on my appendages shortly afterwards. I tremble from the touch, so unused to having a man touching me so…so calmly without wishing for anything sensual. But it’s Gaara. And I know I mean absolutely nothing to him in a personal sense, let alone a passionate one.

                “Tea?” He offers once we’ve sat in silence for the second time this evening. My small nod sends him standing. “Very well.”

                The tea is steeped and strained with patient efficiency. I take the mug from his hands and dip my chin immediately. I’m sheepish. Uncomfortable. He’d seen so much of me it hurt to pretend it didn’t happen. And everyone else would know when morning came thanks to the plethora of injuries I’d sustained. Which meant more questions from Kankuro than I felt like answering and a flood of concern from my uncle I did not wish to receive. My vision began to spin, and I’m sick to my stomach.

                “Aylin?” A hand is placed cautiously on my back. Steadying. Warm. Gentle. “You look ill. Shall I wake your uncle?”

                I shake my head. “N-no. Please don’t.” The mug trembles in my hands. “I’m fine.”

                He removes his hand. The charged silence that follows signals that he doesn’t believe me. “If that is what you wish.”

                I’m tired. Weepy. Painful. The clenching in my abdomen intensifies, and mixed with the throbbing in my ankle that echoes across my smaller wounds, I’m absolutely miserable. All I want to do is die. Die and wake up in another world.

                “A tale.” He says suddenly, and there’s a dawning sense of curiosity in me. “Would you be averse to me telling one?”

                “No.” I say honestly, a little amazed that he’s in the mood to speak to me in more than clipped, polite sentences this evening. “Go right ahead.”

                He spins a beautiful tale. One of a dragon who lived within a cave and hid away from the world to protect its magical scales from being plucked mercilessly from its body by greedy humans. One day a little boy who had been banished from a nearby village due to a deformity stumbles into the cave and befriends the grumpy dragon. The dragon feels so dearly for the child who was shunned for things beyond his control and offers him one of his scales, which magically heals his physical malady. And while the boy could have become vain or proud, he doesn’t, and uses his newly healed body to scour lands for other unjustly tormented souls to be tested by the wise dragon in the hopes of saving more people like himself.

                I’ve given my attention so completely to the rhythmic recount of the tale he offers that I’m curled contently in the dirt moments away from being asleep. The pain in my body has been calmed to an almost magical state of nonexistence, and I’m calm. Sleepy.

                Part of me knows it’s improper to sleep out here in the open, and I hope that Gaara will make a comment about having me return to my tent. But when he remains silent, I drift away lost in a world of magic and endless possibility to heal even the ugliest of wounds inside and out.

*

                I wake up in my tent to the call of my uncle just outside. There’s a moment of confusion when the canvas flutters around me, and I suddenly remember the odd turn of events that happened last night as I hurry to slump forward. The last thing I remember is being outside by the fire with Gaara a respectful distance away. Had he carried me in here? A hand curls over my now violently beating heart. Who else would have then, if not him?

                Walking outside the tent meant answering questions and seeing everyone’s sympathetic expression. No, that wouldn’t be right. Temari nor Gaara would show any emotion. But it wasn’t them that I was worried about. It was Kankuro. And how invasive I knew he’d become when he saw that I was injured.

                Prolonging the inevitable, while what I secretly desired, wasn’t wise. I push the blanket off of me, braid my wild locks, shuck off my nightgown, and ram on a fresh gown without standing. My ankle’s already throbbing and the deeper wounds all across my body are not much better. If I had thought myself miserable before, I had been wrong.

                I can’t step very hard on my right foot, but knowing I can do it at all is a miracle in and of itself. I hold onto the side of the tent, limping gingerly with a tormented scrunch of my face, and barely manage to make it outside. There’s an arm underneath me not a moment later, strong and sure, and I turn to see Kankuro watching me, dark eyes ablaze with worry.

                “You really are injured.” His breath is hot against my cheek as he dips to take my bruised features with a concerned frown. “When I had heard the news from Gaara, I had thought it a badly meant joke, but now…” His frown grows. “He really did frighten you badly.”

                “Hm?” I search his pinched features that harbor less than pleasant feelings with a sense of puzzlement. “What do you mean?”

                “He said he saw you wander off alone and went to bring you back to camp.” He offers a little hesitantly, his dark eyes round as my own confused look registers. “You had your thoughts in another place and jerked back when he approached. Rolled right off the hillside and sprained your ankle.” The slight narrowing of his eyes has me shivering. “Isn’t that what happened?”

                “It is.” I say calmly, not at all liking the dark glint in his eye. The emotions are running rampant just below my surface. Shock, that Gaara had concocted a believable lie to cover what had really happened last night. Gratefulness that he kept his promise to not divulge my trauma to his siblings. But bone-deep grief that he had somehow made himself out to be the horror behind last night's events instead of my hero. “Forgive me. I’m just a little too dizzy to think straight.”

                He helps me the short distance to our small fire and hurries to get some of our reserved water to me. I drink thirstily, actually quite dehydrated from the strain emotionally and physically accumulated by my body in the last few hours, much to his relief as he praises me. A quiet comment if I’m hungry, and I manage a small nod, knowing my body needed sustenance to recover from the frightened fall I’d taken. When he moves away to a small pot nearby, I feel a hand curl around my shoulder.

                “Aylin.” Uncle’s silver eyes are cool as they smooth across my wounds. “Are you alright?”

                “Yes, Uncle.” I console him softly. “Don’t worry. The bruises and wounds will fade with time. As will my sprained ankle.”

                A long look that speak he isn’t really worried about the injuries. He’s worried about how I’ve really gotten them. While Kankuro might have been inclined to believe his own brother for a variety of reasons, I knew my uncle would not. He was distrustful of Gaara. Highly distrustful of him when it came to anything other than politics.

                “Eat, then come straightaway to the cart.” He sees Kankuro returning and turns away on his heel, broad shoulders now tensely raised beneath his traveler’s cloak. “We must speak in private.”

                Kankuro’s almost borderline frantic when I stand to my feet upon finishing the simple rice gruel that made up our diet in the mornings. I reassure him that I am perfectly capable of tending to myself, and there’s a small frown on his face as he forces himself to remain back as I limp away to the cart a few yards away. Uncle’s upset himself, tightening the ropes over the various canvas-covered cargo with more force than necessary. I’d rarely seen him angered in the years the two of us had become like father and daughter, and seeing it take control of him now made me frightened.

                “Sit.” He points to the front of the cart, and I do so with my head dipped. A harsh sigh falls from his lips as he continues on with his work. “The man lies. Does he not?”

                He speaks of Gaara now. I fiddle with my fingers, hating that he saw through his lies as easily as I thought he would. “Yes.” A grunt now. It takes me a moment to process the sound, and when I do, my stomach drops. “Please, uncle. He meant me no harm. I had another nightmare-induced attack and he-“

                “ _Enough_.” A deep, chilling growl that silences me in a moment. “I don’t care what he did or did not do. I told you to stay away from him. He might not have hurt you now, but Aylin-“

                “He wouldn’t!” I snap, tears burning my eyes as the loathing inside me flared. He didn’t know Gaara. Didn’t see the way he had always treated me like a.. like a normal human being despite my obvious short comings. Uncle was always living in the past, holding onto his fears for the future because of what happened to darken the path he was now forced to take. And now it made him judge someone unjustly when he too should be in the man’s debt. “Why can’t you be glad that I’m fine? That this all could have turned out worse than it actually had?”

                “Your uncle is right to worry.” I jump, heart dropping deep within the space just beneath my ribs. Gaara steps out from the other side of the cart, not at all fazed by the heated argument Uncle and I had just been having. How long had he been listening in? Or had this whole conversation been staged by him all along? “I am a monster.” His seafoam eyes scan the dawn breaking against the sky in its final stage before morning truly came. “And I will hurt you. Do not think for a moment that it could ever be otherwise.”

                The humiliated tears burn in my eyes as he ambles away, back straight and head held high, to join his siblings. _Liar_! I hear the little voice within me scream pointedly at him as he continued to put space between us. _Look me in the face like you did last night and say those words again!_

He keeps his distance. Painfully so. And I, to keep my uncle’s rage from boiling over and possibly igniting some sort of deep-rooted loathing on both ends with these noble-blooded siblings, retire to my tent in the evening and do not leave, even when I am unable to sleep and the festering, weepy feeling of being so confused and so bitter that I was either believing a lie or seeing a small kernel of light in someone the world believed to be only dark threatens to drown me instead.

                Our last night I am unable to lay still as a wave of nausea hits me. I scramble out of the cave, retching on bent knees and arms onto the sand just outside. The tears are streaming down my face as every inch of my body inside and out is in utter turmoil. My ankle is barely healed, but neither is my consciousness. How could I sit back, soul dripping with indebted gratitude, and watch a man accept blame for something he did not do?

                I sit outside, staring at the expanse of cosmos so far away and high above with a sense of sickened injustice. The twinkling stars were teasing me. Taunting me. Part of me wonders if my family is watching from one of the constellations and screaming chastisements at me for all the foolishness I’ve heaped upon myself. I don’t blame them. I deserved their righteous fury. What right did I have to maintain this ongoing life within me when theirs had been ripped so unjustly from their own hands?

                A thud of muted footsteps come from behind me, but they halt a short distance away. “Nobu’s asked me to keep you to your tent.” Gaara sounds exhausted. I can’t help but wonder if it’s from dealing with me or the weight of the trip finally getting to him. “Go back.”

                I cross my arms over my bent legs and continue to stare up at the sky. If he wanted me to leave, he was going to have to do it by brute force. So I opt instead to ignore him until he’s obliged to do exactly that. “Once there was a sultan who lived upon a star. So lovely was his world, small but powerful as it was. He was king there- ruler supreme over all. But one day, his star died, as all stars do, and down the sultan came, plummeting in the deep, deep darkness until he descends upon the earth below. The soft sand cradles his blow, but the astral being finds no joy in experiencing this strange terrain. As he stares out across the vast expanse of golden dunes swept bare by wind and harsh sunlight, he realizes he is no longer sultan. And he wonders what he is.

                “’ _You are but nothing.’_ A serpent creeps from behind a rock and slithers mockingly around the astral man’s feet. ’ _A mere man among men. Delusional. Tormented. Crazed by things beyond your grasp.’_ The sultan exclaims in quite the horrified manner, negating everything the slithering being said, and set out to prove that on this planet too he could be king and find joy in ruling over something again.

                “But there was no one who wished to make him king. All they saw was the different coloring of his skin and his strange words that could not pierce their wayward and selfish hearts. In all their ignorance, they could not see deep inside to his heart of hearts where the love for treating all humankind with a noble but wise rule existed. And so he wandered aimlessly in the desert, heart shriveling within him under the heat of the cruel, cruel sun that too wished him gone.

                “’ _See?’_ The serpent slithers out to him again, rattle shaking with mirth to see his cruel wisdom now manifested within the hollow sultan. _‘The world you yearn to exist in cannot be. It has ended long, long ago, and abandoned you to the whims of someone else’s universe. Allow me to end your suffering.’_ A trickle of panic overtakes the heartbroken man as the creature’s beckoning chills the blood in his veins. _‘Allow me to send you back to the world you yearn to return to.’_

“And heartbroken for his life to be proven for naught, the sultan softly agrees to the serpent’s plan. Its venomous fangs pierce the man’s exposed ankle, and as the boiling, death-bringing poison overtakes him, the astral ruler sees that star- his star- and knows he will return there for all of eternity. A place where the star will never die out again and he can be sultan forever.”      

                I stagger to my feet now and limp back to where he is standing. “One day soon I hope you will sink your fangs into me.” I murmur sadly. “And let me rid myself of this deep, dark nightmare that ensnares the life I might once have lived.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah... the plot thickens! Thank you to everyone who is reading this work. I am hope you all are enjoying it. I will be very busy in the upcoming weeks so I may be either upping my upload time to bi-weekly or lengthening it considerably. If you like this story, be sure to let me know. Maybe I'll be more inclined to make my decision based on that ;)


	6. Celebrate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone's week has been off to a good start. I have been bombarded with work and packing, but there are no complaints on my behalf. Thanks as always to everyone who is reading. A special thanks to those who have commented or left kudos. I hope all of you are doing well and have a good week.

                It’s crowded.

                Bright.

                Loud.

                Uncle keeps me close beside him as the throngs of immaculately dressed villagers gather around the square that has been decorated to the brim with beautiful artifacts, torches, and precious silks or metals. It’s an auspicious event. Grand. Breathtaking. Had it been for any other person, I might have been inclined to celebrate with some exuberance.

                But since it was for Gaara, I couldn’t help but have mixed feelings.

                Everything went back to normal upon returning to Suna. No nightmares in the midst of strangers, no foreign rooms or darkened landscapes to cradle my body as I was heralded off to an uncomfortable sleep, and no long sleepless nights spent in the company of a man that saw me in ways I couldn’t place into words. There was work to keep me occupied and Kankuro to distract me during the time I could spare on his behalf. We talk of the future. Of love. Words only uttered softly from his lips and a wordless agreement from mine surely counted as a conversation on such, didn’t it?

                There’s food and drink laid out for the whole village on low tables lined with silk runners and embroidered pillows to recline upon. I can see the royal siblings at a slightly raised table at the head of the whole organization, a blur of brown, red, and then golden hair as I sweep my eyes to the sky in that direction. I’m sure they’re dressed to the nines to display their rank in the village and remind us all that they ruled over us all. That their family would always rule over us all.

                “Sit here, my dear.” Uncle places me between himself and another cluster of non-shinobi civilians. I can see it clearly now, the distinction between shinobi and us, the unfortunate few whose blood held no magical chakras- no supernatural power to be used to showcase the power of our country. But in a way, I was glad. A blood-hungry guard dog was something I could never see myself becoming. “Mesmerizing, isn’t it?”

                “Of course it is.” I murmur while pouring him some wine. My gold bangles clink with the movement, and I can feel a migraine forming as the noise echoes in my ears. We’ve all dressed with care and put on our most intricate jewelry to honor the auspicious evening. But Aal the precious metals weighing me down and my embroidered silk gown of cobalt and gold mean nothing. They were empty, hollow displays of joyful reverence I did not feel for this occasion. “It’s not every day we see a new Kazekage brought to office.”

                The banquet is a flourish of grandiose gestures I have no desire of paying attention to. My ears are tuned into the quiet conversation my uncle is having with a few of the others nearby, glad for the distraction of caravan work that was soon to be upon us yet again. The thought of those other countries yet again opening up to my feet, beautiful and awe-inspiring in their own ways, fills me with a surge of giddy anticipation. Someday soon I’d be rid of the shadows of our last trip. And we’d laugh back on it- Uncle and I would, I was sure of it- and let what I assumed to be my last season on the road with him be as grand as it could be.

                Most of the main festivities have come to an end now, leaving the option for the masses gathered around me to retire for the evening. It’s custom to stop and congratulate our newly appointed leader for his rise to office with a kind hope or two for his rule, but I watch more than I expected stand to their feet and amble into the darkened village beyond. A silent signal of distrust, or perhaps even hatred, for the redhead as he was forced to watch them all depart from his spot nearby. There’s a cold ripple of fear within me that Uncle will follow suit, but when he stands to his feet, eyes scanning the growing line of citizens awaiting their turn to speak with Gaara, I know he cares too much about the caravan and our own well-being to do the same.

                I feel sorry for him, the more I linger in line waiting for my chance to speak pleasantries I’m sure he had heard a hundred times over this evening. He was a man I never pegged to enjoy such long-winded ceremonies and the like, though I am sure for the sake of his rank and newly given title, his stoic mask would be tethered tight to his face and he, like myself, would endure it for as long as need be. And later, when the day was over, the torches burnt to a scorched end and night giving way to dawn, he’d sit in silence among the sand and let this night replay endlessly within his weary mind unable to rest as the demon within him reigned supreme.

                “Nobu. Aylin.” His deep voice acknowledges us as my uncle and I prostrate ourselves before him. “Stand please.”

                “An honored night, Lord Kazekage, for us all to be invited to partake in.” Uncle dips his turban-wrapped head even after we’ve stood. Kankuro’s been grinning at me this whole time, and I try to keep my eyes on him for as long as possible. He looks a little more formal in his traditional Suna garb, face now void of its comical paint. But when his dark eyes weep over my body, a sudden flame of desire within them, I avert them to the sandy ground before his brother instead. “May we all prosper under your guidance in the years to come.”

                “Thank you.” A slight pause. “Have you enjoyed yourself, Aylin?”

                I jolt, clearly not expecting a direct question for me to fall from his lips. I lift my head to look him over, straight-backed in his traditional tunic embellished with elaborate embroideries cast in threads of shimmering yarn that shone in many colors alongside the jewel encrusted rings littering many of his fingers and pointed shoes overlaid yet again with precious metals and gems. Those eyes hold my own, a slight hint of amusement above the weary dryness of them, and I avert my gaze after a moment.

                “How could I not, Lord Kazekage?” My voice is calm. Almost too politely so. There’s a strange tremor traveling down my spine. I’m worried. Nervous. Panicked that he’ll say something else and keep me nearby Kankuro for the rest of the evening when all I wanted to do was return home and lay in my bed. “You are deserving of every grand feast and act of fealty from us all. As my uncle has already uttered, we are honored and humbled to be here to celebrate your momentous accomplishment. If only there was something more we could do to reassure you of such a thing.”

                “A tale,” The deep murmur has me flushing. It echoed with the scant memories I held dear from that perilously problematic journey we had all partaken in now several moons ago. “Would do me well.”

                I can feel it now. The stares of everyone- of Uncle, Kankuro, Temari. Anyone nearby in all actuality- pressing like daggers into me. My eyes are still on the sand between us, heart now thumping almost out of my rib-cage, and I can tell I’m moments away from getting sick. But I will not appease him. Not here, not ever. If he thought that with his new title he could sway me to act like a puppet with strings, the once level-headed side of him I once admired was made moot by delusions of grandeur.

                “Forgive me, Lord Kazekage, but I feel it an inopportune time to do so.” A sudden intake of breath from everyone in earshot. _A direct refusal?_ The unspoken question rings in the static air between us. “For I am but a common civilian whose words should not echo a tale along the elders and honored shinobi of this village who have already done so for your amusement throughout this auspicious feast.” I clasp my hands before me and lift my head to meet his expressionless mask. “Allow me instead of share of kernel of truth from a tale instead. My prayer is that you mirror the walk of Ali Baba: quick to show your generosity to mere slaves like Morgiana for their acts of aid, compassionate to lay to rest those killed by their vices instead of leaving them to rot where they fall, and prosperous in your endeavors for the future of these people- your people- so that we too may mirror your virtues into the generations to come.”

                A whisper of a smile on his lips. Everyone else has hushed into an amazed silence for my witty but wise retort. I’m sure no one expected such a response to fall from my lips- not even the Kazekage himself. Why else would he look at me in such a manner- as if the weight of my intelligence warmed him straight to the core?

                “Your niece speaks such wisdom-laced rhetoric with an unwavering and honest heart.” The indirect praise has me smiling down at the sand. “She will do you proud, Nobu. Though I am sure you already know this.”

                An amused chuckle from my uncle. “Indeed, Lord Kazekage. She is a beautiful desert rose that is worthy of every great and lovely thing this world can offer.”

                “Which she will have.” Kankuro says in place of his brother. The slight tingle of giddiness is now shot down like a bird struck with an arrow as it soars through the clear azure sky. “This I can assure you.”

                As we wander back down the streets that evening, I find myself lost as if in a daze. How easy it had been talking to Gaara like we were acquaintances of old. His need for a tale and his almost stoic respect to let me speak as I would to any other person holding the same rank as me are so utterly juxtaposed by his brother’s hungry eyes, pleased smile, and empty words to force his intentions on me.

                But I know this is what is right. What is just. And thinking moments like this could ever exist again would only make the ache for freedom inside my chest grow. Gaara was no Ali Baba, nor was I Morgiana. He would not free me from my shackles. Not when they tethered me to his brother for all of time.


	7. Shackled

               Ah, but how wicked the turns of time can be. The world turned on its head all at once, never to be righted ever again. A frightening, dangerous new path my feet were forced to walk upon all for the cruelty of the world to be made evident yet again.

                I’m sitting in the royal council room, hands balled into tight fists against the material of my most modest gown as ten men of various ages, sizes, and expressions all have their visions set on me. It’s spring now. Gaara’s been in office for almost half a year. There have been worries of threats from other countries, the possibility of skirmishes within and outside of the country, as well as the ever-present underlying terror of the man losing hold on his inner demon and bathing us all in blood yet again. Uncle’s anxious to get out of the country now that the thaw of winter has taken place in most of the world, though in recent weeks, he looks haunted. Almost ill. But every time I attempted to approach him about it, he shut himself away in his room and would not emerge until sustenance or some other pressing need beckoned him.

                It was only until the written decree to meet with the royal council arrives that I too become terrified. Had they gotten word of something they did not enjoy? Was it my relationship with Kankuro? Something with the caravan? Or another act on my behalf that needed reprimanding?

                I could not sleep. Could not eat. The terror ate away inside of me, threatening to make me weak in more ways than just body. I could not do this. I could not face them. But how could I refuse? What if this was a direct command from Gaara himself?

                But when the crimson-haired man is surprisingly absent from the meeting, I find myself not at all relieved. It was me and a whole room of strangers. Men ready to eat me alive and push my nose into the dirt for ever thinking a woman could be anything of merit in such a place so back-slidden in comparison to the rest of the world’s marching progress. My stomach is clenching and unclenching so many times I do not know if I will be able to control it or my bladder in the moments to come. And with the topic of this sudden meeting still uncomfortably undisclosed, I worried I would make a mess of myself sooner than later.

                “Aylin of the Tottori clan.” A booming call of my name signals the beginning of this trial sure to brand me as a heretic or something worse. “This council is adjoined on your behalf. We thank you for joining us and will relay the contents of this most auspicious meeting to you in the moments to come.”

                “You honor me, councilmen.” I dip my head, breath fluttering in my nose as the panic swelled with the deep voice still echoing in my head. “My ears are ready for instruction, my body ready to serve, and my heart filled with adoration and anticipation to have the wisdom of this country’s advisers bestowed upon me.”

                “A humble woman, raised justly by reverent citizens of our country.” A slight praise from an older man a few seats to my left at the round table. “You shall have your just rewards, my dear. The highest honor to ever be placed upon your head is now laid at your feet.”

                My stomach drops. There was no doubt in my mind as to what they were insinuating. They spoke of marriage. Of a woman’s greatest feat in bonding herself to a man for all of time. So this _was_ about Kankuro. No, that couldn’t be. I don’t think that man would have let a council of shriveled old men already expired for the grave mark our betrothal.

                Then what? What possible occasion could beckon me to them and mark a new chapter in my life?

                “It has become increasingly clear to us,” One starts, only to pause as the other nine hum in an unspoken agreement of sorts. “That Lord Kazekage has been doing well in office. Increasingly well. But he is in need of something- of someone. And it is no councilman, no adviser, nor shinobi. It is a wife. And a wife, we have decided, is what we must bring to him.”

                A powerful shiver travels down my spine. The world slows. All sound distorts in my ears. Thoughts slam to a sudden halt inside of my head.

                Me, marry Gaara.

                Marry Gaara?

                A laugh bubbles in my throat after a moment, a subconscious reaction to how incredibly ridiculous and insane this joke was turning out to be.

                But when the councilmen remain silent and contently so, I know that this is no joke.

                “You honor me councilmen, but...” I falter, willing myself to breathe for the first time in almost a minute. “I feel myself unworthy of such a calling. Of such a title.”

                An airy chuckle drifts over the continued silence. “Do not be so modest. We have scrutinized many women in regards the steep and rigorous set of ideals the lady of our village should hold. And you, my dear, have shown yourself quite capable in our minds of accepting the trials as well as the luxuries holding such a title brings about.”

                “The lady of our village,” Another clarifies even further. “Must be poised. Reverent and pious to the point that she serves her country, and her husband in turn, with the highest respect and utmost diligence. A speaker of wise words who knows the power of a quietly spoken comment or an expression that too may hold some weight in place of lengthy conversation. One well-versed in international relations to make greeting leaders of other countries a thing of ease. A woman whose beauty is second to her modesty, and whose body is a worthy chalice to hold the seed of the Kazekage and sire his children.”

                Too many words. Not enough time to process them all.

                 I can see how I fit all of those requirements. The beauty or body part, well, not so much, but everything else can be checked off with ease. And I’m sickened. Angry. That somehow the things I had learned to survive a life on the caravan now made me the target of this country’s council to be molded into a masterpiece of their misogynistic ways.

                “You have set your qualifications justly, councilmen, for I too believe the Lady of the Sand to be well-versed in all those attributes you’ve before mentioned. However, I…” _I can’t do this. Please don’t force me to do this!_ “Do you not think Lord Kazekage should choose his spouse for the sake of love?”

                A booming laugh of disbelief echoes all around me.

                  _Fool_. The humor ringing in the air mocks me. _Who could ever learn to love a monster? Or teach a monster to love for that matter?_

“Ah, my dear,” The man to my left wipes away the amused tears from his eyes with a tiny smile. “What a laugh you’ve given us. Love? What place has love in ruling a country? In sustaining a long tradition of blood? A union to secure the royal lineage and a dainty hand to escort across this land and many others is all he must ever desire. And it is you he will receive.” A narrowing of his eyes on my blank face. “And it is to him you will be given.”

                I see it now. Their knowledge of my relationship to Kankuro, and their refusal to let such a thing exist. All they see in me is a vessel. A thing of beauty meant to be paraded around with no care for the soul within- the essence that made me me. I would be shaped and twisted to fit their irrational ideologies. All I would amount to was an image of womanly duty for this country. That and nothing more.

                “Does Lord Kazekage know?” My frail question barely filters through the air. I’m numb. Terrified. All I want to do is wake up from this nightmare and cry in relief that it would never be. But this is no dream that has taken a darkened descent. This is reality. My cruel fate. My twisted future.

                A sidelong glance is shared between all the councilmen present.

                “No.” A slight hesitation from one across the table a moment later. I’m not sure whether to be relieved or all the more terror-stricken. “But he will be informed upon his return from a foreign council in a neighboring land. Rest assured that his reaction will be one of joy and pride. He will rejoice in this match made for the betterment of us all.”

                 I can’t help but think the councilmen all to be liars. They knew nothing of Gaara- nothing of his wishes for the future or his personal yearnings. Being Kazekage would not change that, nor do I think it would have made him any more inclined to marrying me than if he had not held such an office.

                “I see.” My throat clenches. “Forgive me, but my uncle and I, we will-”

                “Be on another trading expedition.” One cuts in before I can finish the statement. “Yes, we are well aware of that. No need to fret, my dear. Go along as you’ve intended with Nobu. This betrothal is not a speedy process, nor one we think needs to come to fruition soon. Rest assured that your uncle has been informed of it as well. For we would not wish for our dear caravan leader to find himself without a decent ledger-keeper, hm?”

                Poor, poor uncle. No wonder he had looked so tormented these last few weeks. Gods only knew the horrible grief he felt knowing he could not save me from such a fate neither of us ever thought possible. My heart bleeds for him; he must have locked himself away when my pestering questions came because he wished to protect me for as long as possible.

                I’m escorted out of the council chamber not long afterwards and deposited promptly back at my house as if this whole chaotic string of things yet to come meant as little to those men as deciding what tea they would drink that afternoon. Uncle is sitting at the kitchen table, head cradled in his hands, looking like he has been tormented by silent agony just like that since the moment I left. I pull my stool beside him and sit in silence, my mind so overwhelmed with a dizzying array of thoughts and emotions that I can’t find the words to speak. But really, what was there to say? What possibly could have been done to keep this crazed, concocted proposition from ever occurring?

                “Aylin, forgive me.” He sounds so pained. So tormented. “Forgive me for not being able to stop this from happening. You do not deserve this. Oh gods,” He weeps into his hands now. “What did she do to deserve such a dour destiny?”

                I wrap an arm around his shoulders, bringing him close so that I can lay my head on his bicep. “Do not weep, Uncle. Not for me. You had no part in this. This is not a thing that could have been altered. Let us both be glad it is me they have chosen, and no one else. I will bear this burden without qualm. I will do you proud- do this country proud."

                He moves to crush me in his arms, still sobbing as violently as before. “My sweet, sweet girl. Do not give yourself to these men. They dangle you in front of a monster’s mouth and think nothing for your safety- only of their own wicked and warped ways. I vowed to keep you away from him. And now,” He smooths a hand across my back. “I can only watch helpless as they use you as fodder to feed his power-hungry propaganda.”

                “Gaara knows nothing of this.” I murmur softly into his chest. “Nor do I think he would ever agree to such a thing if he did. He too is a pawn in this whole proposition. And even he is powerless to their beckoning.”

                “Let us hope that he is not.” Uncle sniffs hard, still intent on holding me close. “For if anyone can break this betrothal off before it can truly occur, it is him and him alone.”

*

                Six weeks. Forty-two days. Forty-two sunsets and sunrises to behold as if a blink of an eye.

                Our trip spans this long of a duration in a neighboring foreign land. It is not a dangerous travel, nor dismal, but I find the anticipation I once held for this routine trade completely vanished. Instead, I am numb. Empty. A person with a heart chilled to ice within her chest and a mind ripped apart by a storm of angry thoughts that rained upon her all hours of the day.

                My dreams are worse. More frightening than ever and all the more graphic. Instead of the usual flame-induced terrors, I find myself in a new realm of hell instead. One where a thousand eyes are fixated on me unblinking, and two thousand hands rip the skin from my bone and rearrange it until I am a completely new being. I scream for help, for mercy, for forgiveness, not knowing why or how I ever deserved such a fate. Then Gaara appears, a pale figure whose burning red hair is the same shade as my blood, and he too tears his skin away to reveal the ugly demon lingering just beneath.

                No one can really sleep all thanks to my screaming. I apologize, hoarse from the nightmarish terrors, to everyone in our contingency as well as the guards, but I can see it in their eyes. The irritation that came from exhaustion not solved by sleep. And something else is there too- a darker emotion I couldn’t put into words. Something that made me realize that they would be glad for the day Uncle’s caravan would finally be rid of me forever.

                _If only they knew how soon such a day would be upon them_. I curl myself into a ball most nights and do not attempt to sleep until the exhaustion draws my conscious away unwillingly. _And that such a thing was the reason for these ugly, incoherent nightmares that kept us all awake._

The blur of numbers, checks, and logs keeps me distracted for a short time. I find a moment of quiet bliss in a sudden rainstorm, or the cool caress of a misty breeze, and it’s enough. Such easy moments of contentment would never come again. This naïve, easygoing time of my life had come to an abrupt end, and no pining nor stalwart action would ever get it to revitalize itself.

                We are all subdued when our return to the Sand finally arrives. While it is clear the group is anxious just to be comfortably settled back at home, Uncle and I have different reasons for our withdrawal. I worry that Gaara will meet us at the entrance of the village, seafoam eyes burning with muted anger, but there is no one. Nothing. It is as if the whole agonizing act of accepting this betrothal thrust upon me was a mere figment of my imagination.

                But when I see Uncle’s haunted eyes, I know it is no fantasy. Sooner or later, he would come. And with him either came the release we secretly yearned for or an even deeper downfall into the despair threatening to consume us alive.

                Gaara’s arrival is marked over a week since our return. I answer the knock to the door that fated afternoon, heart in my throat, and find myself not at all set at ease by his rigid stature. His weary eyes glance down at me then into the darkened house just beyond where we stood.

                “Is your uncle home?” He waits until I manage a nod to release a pent-up sigh. “Very well. I’m coming in.”

                The three of us settle at the table in the kitchen with an uncomfortable and almost unbreakable silence weighing heavy in the air. I’ve distracted myself for a short while preparing some tea, but none of us drink. Uncle has his head in his hands again. Gaara looks at him for a moment before sitting a little more tensely than before.

                “I…” He falters for a moment, eyes glinting as some unreadable emotion passes over them. “Find myself at a loss for words. Forgive me. This is a difficult conversation to begin.”

                My eyes drift to my lap, misty but unable to shed tears. “So they’ve told you then. About the betrothal.”

                “Yes.” A stoic answer that hides his true reaction to this monstrosity of a mess. “And it seems what I have been told holds no falsehood. They have already conferred with you on the matter. And you have given your answer in turn.”

                “I had no answer to give!” I snap, only to tremble as the grief hits me full-force. Uncle makes a small sound as if he will be sick, but there is nothing following for a few moments. My hands lift to my eyes, and I press back the tears before they can fall. “You know as well as I do that this was no decision for me to make, but a decree to accept despite myself.”

                “The blame for that must fall on me.” He crosses his arms against his torso now. “When the council approached me on the topic of obtaining a spouse, I gave them my full faith to scour the country to find whomever they thought to be the best fitted for such a role and put the betrothal into action. I confessed to them that I would rather not be privy to who it would be until the decision was unanimous and the woman notified. Had I known for the slightest moment that it could have been you, I would have taken greater precautions.”

                A dejected sigh falls from my lips as I avert my gaze to the floor. “So this the reality of it. There is nothing more we can do.”

                “No.” He concurs with somberness. “For I would have freed you from this if such an option existed.”

                My uncle stands to his feet and mutters that he needs to excuse himself. We both hear him retching in the room nearby and sit unmoving until he returns. Gaara looks just as ill himself. I am sure he too feels this all to be a terrible, terrible idea.

                Uncle returns a short time later and runs a hand over his sickly pale face before releasing a shaking sigh. “And the betrothal? When is it to be announced?”

                “The time has not yet been set.” Gaara confesses evenly. “But it cannot be much longer. I will draw up the papers and have you both sent for. There is much to be done in regards to this whole ordeal, but we will take it slowly in terms of progression.”

                “I’m sorry.” I say frailly, hating that yet another burden was heaped upon his shoulders all thanks to me. “Truly.”

                He sighs. “If there is anyone I do not want apologizing to me, it is you. I am the one who should be begging for your forgiveness. Your future and lifestyle have been squandered all to appease my own.”

                 “And Kuro?” I can feel my breath hitch as his frozen mask of disbelief is conjured. “Does he know?”

                “He does not.” His uncomfortable confession is uttered softly. A rush of relief and guilt battle each other within my soul in response. “Nor does Temari. It is a delicate topic to bring up around my siblings. Increasingly so now that it involves you as well. But if you wish-”

                “No!” My panicked shout rings in the emptiness of the room. “Please.” I dip my head, trembling all the more. “Keep this from them for as long as possible. I could not bear… to see his heart break.”

                I begin to sob now, so tormented by the dizzying array of worries overcrowding my mind. The ugly, breathless sounds make both men fidget beside me, but I cannot stop. It feels as though I would create an ocean where I sat and drown us all. That would be a release and relief wouldn’t it?

                “Here, my dear.” Uncle coerces a handkerchief into my hand once my tears have softened in intensity. “Compose yourself.”

                I dab at my eyes then blow at my nose, feeling not at all composed as the sadness is quelled for now. My puffy eyes lift to look at Gaara and wish I hadn’t. The painful look of guilt trapped within his own makes my chest ache.

                He did not want me.

                He did not ask for this.

                But we were both prisoners shackled together and ordered to serve a life sentence all for the sake of a country who thought us pawns they could move as they pleased.

                “I have imposed far too long upon you.” Gaara stands to his feet. “Allow me to make my departure now so you may breathe in peace within your own home again.”

                Uncle nods. “Thank you. I’ll walk you t-“

                “I’ll do it.” I stand to my feet and force the snotty, tear-soaked linen back into his hand. “Go and rest, Uncle. I’ll wake you when dinner is done.”

                Gaara and I both pause just beside the door. My eyes lift from the floor to look at him, and the gaze we share is as woeful as it gets. I want to tell him that this will all work out somehow, but I cannot utter such a lie. He knows as well as I do that this whole ordeal is fraught with uncertainty that may never end for as long as we both lived.

                But then I remember those moments together from our trip to Konoha and can’t help but hope that this wouldn’t be as terrible as I first imagined. We got along reasonably well, and he already knew my horrible traumas to the point of unanimous acceptance that they existed and would continue to exist. Even if we only conversed in tales and anticipated each other’s needs, such a life need not be dreaded completely.

                “Well, Lord Kazekage,” I offer him a tiny smile that seems almost ironic considering the difficult discussion we’ve just partaken in. “It seems you and I will get to know each other a little more than we bargained for. Though I am sorry,” My smile falls as I remember his constant rescues of me when night fell. “That you are the man who must deal with me as I am.”

                “As I’ve said before, do not apologize to me.” His eyes sweep slowly over my face sure to still be blotchy and inflamed from the out-pour of tears only recently ended. “I am in no condition to say that my own traumas are much easier to deal with, so do not think such a burden to be one-sided. We will deal with it all as it comes. Together. Do not think I will abandon you to the wolves when this proclamation turns the world on its head.”

                My smile returns. “I had not been concerned about that, my lord. You are not that type of man.”

                “Very good.” He moves to open the door, but stops as his hand rests upon the knob. “And Aylin?”

                “Yes?”

                “Please stop calling me by my title. If we are to be wed, I do not wish to hear you call me anything but by my name. You are to be my partner- my companion. I want you feeling at ease around me if such a thing is at all possible.”

                My hands clench at my sides. “If that is what you wish.”

                “It is.” The door opens and he dips his head slightly in parting. “Good evening, Aylin. Be sure to get some rest yourself. You will need strength for the days to come.”

                I dip into a bow and keep myself prostrated. “I’ll try. And good evening, Lo-“ I flush as the title attempts to fall subconsciously from my lips. “Gaara.”

                A small nod of agreement to see me accepting his stipulations and he is off. I watch him disappear down the winding, sandy street, unsure of what to feel. Partner, lover, confidant… what combination of the three would he be? Or me? I couldn’t help but pray it would be enough for us both.

                Because if not, it was sure to be a sad, unhappy union as any could be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy... How will Aylin deal with the betrothal? Or Gaara for that matter? Stay tuned, dear reader, if you wish to find out. (I mean that is the whole reason you're even reading this story, right? Haha.)
> 
> Thanks as always to everyone reading. Writing/editing this has been a nice distraction this week. I hope all of you out there are doing well. You all are wonderful and amazing. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.
> 
> Until next time!


	8. Sealed

                “Sign here.” Gaara points to a small space at the bottom of a detailed document. I take the stylus in my shaking hand and mark my signature in the dark ink that would bear this agreement forever. “Good.” He throws some sand over the fresh ink and allows it to blot out the excess liquid. “The formal paper work is completed with this.”

                Uncle looks just as uncomfortable as he had since this whole ordeal had been conjured over two months ago. “And the announcement, Lord Kazekage?”

                “Set for a turning of the moon from now, though it can be postponed if need be for a fortnight. No longer, I’m afraid.” His eyes fall on me. “Is that something you wish to do, Aylin?”

                A tense smile. I’d rather not go through with it at all and leave us all to pursue other paths, but such a thing was as impossible as me sprouting wings. “No. I’m quite content with progressing as need be.”

                His eyes drop back to the table between us. “Very well.” He sits a little more comfortably now. “In regards to the betrothal itself, we will make it a public announcement to the whole village. As you’ve asked, no one has been informed of it outside of you both, myself, and the board of councilmen. Once the announcement is made, certain precautions must be put into place. You will have guards. Unless you are with me, they will remain by you all hours of the day. And if they falter once from their duties I will assign new ones. I will not tolerate any idleness on their behalf. Not with your safety hanging in the balance.”

                “Is it really that serious?” My quickened breathing matches the worried tone of the question.

                He averts his eyes to the wall now. “It is. Your uncle here can attest to it, though I am sure you are not blind to such a revelation either. There are many here and abroad who do not wish me in office. People still think me a menace and a monster deserving either death or a life locked away somewhere. And they will stop at nothing to undermine me, even if it means potentially harming you to the point of death.”

                My heart plummets. “Oh.” I can barely think, let alone breathe now. No wonder Uncle had been so traumatized. He must have imagined every horrible scenario that could and might very well occur once word of our engagement spread.

                “Rest assured I will take no short-cuts in seeing you safe. I will protect you, Aylin.” His vow settles well on my conscious, though only for a moment. “No matter the price.”

                “Thank you, Gaara.” The words wobble out of my mouth. “I know that you will.”

                An awkward pause follows.

                “Well,” He seems a little more relaxed now, though I wouldn’t say he was relaxed. Gaara seemed to be the type of person always thinking, always mulling over something of consequence within his mind. And with this whole ordeal I’m sure he’d been doubly as stressed as I had been. “All there is left to do now is have your gown for the event made. The seamstress who makes all the royal clothing has been notified. All she is in need of is your measurements. One of the guards I’ve already assigned to you will be by in the morning to escort you to her.”

                I blink. So he really had chosen some shinobi to guard me already. The poor souls. Hopefully they wouldn’t think this assignment beneath them. “Ah. Alright.”

                “I have some work that needs to be finished, so I must ask you both to leave now.” He stands to his feet and begins shuffling through the various stacks of paperwork, looking as though he has more than enough to complete in the span of daylight he has left today.

                “Of course.” Uncle lays a hand on my back and turns me towards the door. “Come along, Aylin.”

                “Goodbye, Gaara.” I turn my head to give him a look-over. He’s intently scanning a document with a hand curled against his chin, but he lifts his eyes to meet my look as his name leaves my lips. “Until later.”

                “Until later, Nobu. Aylin.” A small dip of his own head in parting. “We'll stay in touch.”

***

                A polite knock comes to the door early the following morning. Uncle bars my way when I try to open it myself, silver eyes glinting with an edge of concern as he goes to the edifice in my stead. A small pause before he opens it with a slow tug of his arm. A murmured conversation between him and the other person- now presumably male from the deep timbre of his voice- and sure enough, a vaguely familiar man ambles into the house as Uncle shuts the door behind him.

                “My lady.” He kneels before me with one hand resting above his heart. I’m jittery with nervous confusion, completely unprepared for the gesture of fealty and respect he offers so easily. The man is large- broad, but not in an intimidating way; he carries himself extremely well for someone of his physique. His tan skin is much darker than my own, and the dark brown hairs are cropped short beneath his turban to match the neatly trimmed beard he sports. He is younger than Uncle, though not by much. By my guess a man of nine and twenty, if not older. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am called Orthos. Lord Kazekage has entrusted your care to me and another for the time being. She will make her appearance on a later date. Please believe that we both will use our lives to serve you and ensure your well-being without falter.”

                “Rise please, Orthos.” I wait until he’s settled comfortably on his feet to continue. “I’m delighted to make your acquaintance, though a little apologetic for the circumstances bringing you to me. Please know that I am indebted to you for the services you offer me.” A slight dip of my head in polite thanks. “I hope you will find such an assignment is not undermining your aptitude as a shinobi.”

                A flash of white teeth. The sunny look puts me immediately at ease. He's an amiable sort of man who could make you feel like you had known him for much longer than you actually had. “No need to fret on my behalf, milady. Any chance to serve my country is one that matters highly to me.”

                “So it seems.” I say, a little unsure of what else should be spoken on such a meeting. “Have you eaten? We have just finished our morning meal, but-“

                “I am quite alright, milady. No need to offer me anything.” Another warm smile. “My wife keeps me fed and content.”

                A smile tugs at my lips. “I see. Very well.” I move to press a kiss to Uncle’s cheek. “We’ll be off then. Have those ledgers set out for me so I can work on them upon my return, hm?”

                “Of course.” He presses a kiss to both of my cheeks before lifting his gaze to Orthos. “Keep my niece safe.”

                A short nod from the other man. “I have no intention of doing otherwise.” His dark eyes fall on me, and he offers a polite smile. “Shall we be on our way, my lady?”

                I’m nervous to the point of being sick. Orthos is nothing short of genial, acting as though we were friends of old as he escorts me across the village. I’m sure he knew as well as I did that we needed to remain as inconspicuous as possible until the official announcement of Gaara and I’s betrothal. My only hope was that the other guard would find herself able to do so when she joined us. Though the sneaking suspicion that she was already on duty from a distance seemed to be more than a thought when I feel a small trickle of energy pulsating on my back.

                A squeal of delight greets us when we enter the large textile and tailor shop in the market district of the village. Orthos grins, not at all perturbed by the animated welcome, and I try my best to mirror his nonchalant attitude. He winks at one of the girls, sending her giggling before she hurries off behind a set of doors to one side of the bottom floor of the building.

                She returns with a lovely blonde whose physique could be stated in one word: curvaceous. Her blue eyes shine with delight as they fall upon Orthos, and he lets out a good-natured whistle in return. I wonder if they are close friends, but when the woman stops to allow him to press a kiss to her forehead, I realize she must be the wife he brought up not too long ago.

                “Aylin, my love.” She clasps both of my hands in her own and presses a kiss to both of my cheeks. “How wonderful it is to see you! Come in, come in. My husband hasn’t pestered you too greatly this early in the morning, has he?”

                “I’m wounded, Zaphir.” Orthos lays a hand dramatically over his heart and winces with just as much theatricality. “Do you really think me so much of a nuisance?”

                She laughs. “Why else do you think I married you? Gods only know the escapades you would have gotten into had you not been tethered to home and heart.” A laugh is shared by them. Her attention returns to me afterwards. “Shall we move into my work-space? I have a few ideas I’d like to run by you in terms of creating your wardrobe.”

                “Wardrobe?” I blink as we move along. “I was only hoping for one dress.”

                She waves me away. “Pish posh. When is a woman only in need of one new gown? We will do you over, my dear.”

                “But-“ I try to protest, fearing Gaara’s anger upon seeing a bill fitted for more than he expected. Nor was I the type of woman who needed material goods to feel content. Life on the road made you content with enjoying the simpler things.

                “Oh, don’t look so aghast.” She clicks her tongue in a motherly sort of rebuke. “I’ve been well informed to have you dressed to impress, and I will stop at nothing to do so.” She gestures for me to enter into a large room at the end of a hall, filled with spools of various materials in differing colors, densities, and textures. Orthos stops outside and leans against the wall, smiling all the while, and I know he will keep guard from that spot until we are finished. “Lest I wish to have the Kazekage’s wrath upon me.”

                “Gaara’s asked such a thing of you?” I inquire with obvious shock, unable to believe it to be true.

                Her blue eyes give me a slow look over. The large smile on her face soon returns with vigor. “He did indeed. ‘Fit Aylin for every type of gown she wishes. Spare no expense for materials or adornments. Have her spoiled, for she will not do so of her own accord I’m afraid.’ I have the letter note here if you wish to read it yourself.”

                “No.” I smile lightly, chest aching with a strange sort of endearment I wasn’t used to feeling. “I believe you.”

                She settles me down at her workbench, and the two of us discuss the various details for the gown I will be outfitted with for the royal event. It’s fancy- more fancy than I first imagined. There’s embroidery, an inlay of emerald beneath cream, and a variety of alterations that can be made to the bodice and sleeves in turn. I opt not to do anything too outrageous and stick to a keyhole collar and trumpet-esque sleeves that fanned out from my elbows to reveal a thinner sleeve that would be kept tight against my arms by a ring that slipped over the middle digit on both my hands.

                Zaphir is obviously delighted with any and every decision I make. “You will look splendid, my dear.” A sly smile. “And if Lord Kazekage does not find you pleasing in every way a man should, then he is a sorry soul indeed.”

                I flush as the image of Gaara gazing brazenly at me appears. No. I frown away the foolish thought. He would not think such a thing. I was not the woman his heart or body had stirrings for. I did not think, deep down, that he allowed himself to feel such a thing as it was.

                We move onto my measurements then lastly materials for a set of gowns to wear once the betrothal is said and done with. I try to opt for the lesser expensive spools, but Zahpir pouts and pulls them all away so that I cannot choose what I normally would have had this been just another dress for me as I was now. In the end, I choose a few silks, airy cloths dyed various hues of blue or purple, and one of a practical material dyed a lovely mint that reminds me of the hue of Gaara’s eyes.

                “Perfect!” The blonde claps her hands together in delight, not at all fazed by the copious amount of work I’d just given her. “I’ll have the most important gown completed first and slowly accumulate the other seven. Would you be at all inconvenienced if I asked you to return in a fortnight for a fitting and needed alterations?”

                I smile. “Not at all. Thank you, Zaphir.” A small dip of my head in thanks. “I have utmost faith in you to make the gowns to the shape and modesty best befitting my new rank.”

                “Your humbleness becomes you, my lady.” She flushes. “But yes, I will have you dressed to showcase my pride in this country as well as the works of my own hands. If there is anything I can do extremely well,” A determined glint in her eyes that is prideful without being self-righteous. “It’s that.”

                Orthos escorts me back in the same manner he did. I’m constantly plucking at my head scarf as the wind picks up from time to time, glad that there is some coolness to the overwhelming heat the middle of summer brought along with it. Soon it would be autumn, then winter, and Gaara will have been in office for the entirety of a year.

                One year. I find myself resisting a frown. Gods how much had changed in that short span of time all thanks in part to that air-headed collision I had with the royal brothers. It was a little unsettling that somehow that tiny bump brought us all to this point.

                “Aylin!”

                Well, speak of the devil.

                I jerk my head up the main pathway to see Kankuro making a direct beeline to where Orthos and I are. A curse is on my lips, but I won’t release it. I can’t. If there was anyone on this planet I wished myself never to see again, it was him. Because I knew the hatred and disbelief soon to cloud his face when that fated day, now only a month away, finally came.

                “Lord Kankuro.” Knowing my guard is in tow, I opt to stay polite. The man makes a face beneath his painted swirls, but it only lingers for a moment. “How nice it is to see you.”

                “Not as nice as it is to see you.” His eyes twinkle. “You’ll have to forgive me for being scarce these last few weeks. Training at the ninja school, going on missions…” He looks at Orthos with a tiny grin. Seems as though the two are vaguely acquainted with each other. “The life of a shinobi isn’t a walk in the park.”

                “Indeed it is not, Lord Kankuro.” My guard agrees amiably, though not as casual as he would have with me. “Though I can say it is a duty worth fulfilling every day of our lives.”

                A growing smile. “Sure is. Anyway,” His attention hones in on me again. “Before I leave for my next mission, why don’t we grab some dinner? Have plenty of stories to tell you about the kooky kids I’ve been training. And I’m sure you have a bunch from your last trading expedition, hm?”

                “I-I’m sorry, but I can’t.” The world stops for a moment as I cannot find an excuse fast enough. Kankuro’s face has changed; he’s disappointed. Very disappointed. “The ledgers have gotten some damage and Uncle is in distress. We need to bind a new set and scribe the expense reports all over again. It’s tedious business.” I frown, knowing the actual matter really was as much a hassle as this painted lie. “So I will be preoccupied for several weeks, I’m afraid.”

                He sighs, clearly downhearted. “I see. Well, can’t say that I blame you. How about I just take a rain check on the dinner date, then?” A smile forms again, this one a little more tender than the first. Kuro wasn’t the type to stay upset about something longer than need be. “My mission will take about a month. You should be done by then, right?”

                “I hope so.” I say against my better judgment. He would be back just in time for the betrothal. “I don’t know how much more I can take of it if not.”

                He laughs lightly. “Don’t worry, Aylin. One day soon this life of yours tied to the caravan will be over.” A more desire-filled gaze probably kept under tight control thanks to Orthos’ presence. “If there’s anything to place hope in, it’s that.”

                I open my mouth, but nothing will come out for a moment. Oh gods, how right he was. But yet, how wrong. Cruel, cruel fate. Why twist it all in such a manner?

                “Yes.” A tight-lipped smile that threatens to crumble as the wails within me grow. “I believe so too.”

                His face brightens from hearing my tensely offered agreement. My heart bleeds all the more for him. But I cannot speak the ugly truth. I cannot have his own heartbroken at such a moment. “Good. Well, I’ll leave you to it. Until my return, Aylin. Be patient.”

                Ah yes. Be patient. Be patient for what, exactly? Prolonging this suffering for us both and watch as we all crack under the news only known to a certain few at this time? I don’t want to know the answer, but I know it all the same. Waiting would be agony. And all for the wrong reasons I could never set right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you yet again to everyone who is reading this. This will be a difficult week for me but I hope to update as I have been. I hope all of you have a good day. Until next time.


	9. Unveiled

               The day of the announcement came like any other day. Quiet. Calm. Completely unaware of the momentous and heartbreaking events it would hold.

                It’s been postponed for a few days. Not thanks to myself or Gaara hesitating in any form or fashion, but all in part to the weather taking a nasty turn none of us anticipated. A nasty sandstorm mercilessly whips against the walls of our home for almost three days straight, restricting any and all activity within the village until it passed. Part of me is relieved to have a little more time just as Aylin, woman of the caravan, but for the most part, I just want this whole secretive business to be said and done with so we could all move on.

                My new guard makes her sudden appearance the morning of the event. She’s sitting at the table with Uncle, eyes honed on a mug of tea steaming on the table beside her. Her ebony hair is twisted against the back of her head and held in place by a few dark tortoise shell clips. I think her almost as old as Orthos from the way she carries herself, and it's only when she turns to give me a frigid expression lacking any emotion do I realize that she’s only a few years my senior.

                “My lady.” She hops off the stool she’s been sitting on to prostrate herself much as Orthos had the first time I met him. There’s an ever-present calmness to her voice that matches the stoic aura she radiates. “Good morning.”

                “Good morning.” I say evenly. “Please, rise.” I wait until she does so to continue. “I take it that you are another one of my guards.”

                Her gaze- a striking look of one green eye matched against one blue eye- lands on me almost unblinking. “Yes. I am called Tala.”

                “Well, Tala,” I drawl, unsure of what to say to her. Unlike Orthos, I did not feel at ease speaking with her like we were friends of old. She made it very clear by her words and by her stance that she either did not want this assignment or did not wish to get any closer to me. “It’s a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. Thank you for the work you’ve already done on my behalf.”

                “There is plenty of work yet to be done, my lady.” She replies without hide nor hair of emotion. “So do not thank me just yet.”

                “If you say so.” I chuckle nervously. She really was an odd one. What in the world was Gaara thinking assigning her to me? Had no one else fit the bill?

                “Come and sit, my dear.” Uncle stands from his own stool and gestures to the spot at the end of the table. “Let us get some food in you while we can, hm?”

                I clench my hands into my plain gown around my stomach. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep anything down.”

                “Let us try all the same.” He turns to give me a sad smile. “Or we might feel the Kazekage’s wrath as he watches you faint before the multitude.”

                “Your uncle speaks true.” Tala, calm as ever, chimes in. “Take sustenance, my lady. It is necessary.”

                I sit at the table and eat the stone hearth-warmed flatbread and cool chick-pea salad spiked with spices at a terribly slow pace. Tala’s settled herself at the table alongside me, not at all bothered by anything, and begins sipping at her own tea. Uncle makes a face at me when she’s distracted enough, and I can’t help but giggle into my hand in between bites. So even he thought her a strange addition to our growing group of guests soon to be daily additions to my life.

                She slides off her stool a few moments later and turns towards the door. “Orthos and his wife have arrived.” Sure enough, there is a knock that echoes a few seconds later. I’m in disbelief. Had she heard them coming from this far inside our home? Or was there some other uncanny gift she possessed the alerted her of their presence? “Shall I let them in, my lady?”

                “Ah. Yes, please.” I blink, sharing a look with my uncle. Even he was amazed. “Thank you Tala.”

                The couple has their hands full when they enter into the kitchen. Orthos cautiously lays the box full of items he’s been carrying to the ground so that he can take the draped bundle of clothing out of his wife’s hands. The two smile at each other, obviously lost in their own world for a moment, but soon jump back to reality when the ebony-haired woman beside them releases a polite cough.

                “A momentous day!” Zaphir comes to squeeze my hands in both of hers. Her blue eyes dance with delight, and I’m glad that at least one of us is brimming with excitement. “How are you, my lady? Did you manage to get any sleep last night? Oh, I bet not! I’d be tossing and turning until dawn broke!”

                A tense smile forms on my lips. “No, not really. But it’s quite alright. Thank you for coming by so early to help me prepare. Hopefully I haven’t kept you from completing some other tasks you had today.”

                She laughs away my concern. “You flatter me, milady, to think I would have anything more important to take care of. The shop workers are enjoying a day off, and the children kept busy at the ninja academy until sunset. My services are yours to take use of for as long as you have need of them. And I gladly give them with all of my heart.”

                “Thank you, Zaphir.” My smile grows before I turn my attention to her husband. “And you, Orthos? Are you well?”

                “As well as ever, milady.” He dips into a bow. “And it seems you’ve met Tala. Good.” He slings an arm around his fellow guard, only to have her scowl deepen. “The three of us will be together many hours of the day, so let me wish us all a happy bond between master and servant from this point onward.”

                “Indeed.” I acquiesce with a hesitant chuckle as Tala slips her shoulders out of the man’s amiable embrace. “So please feel free to be honest with me. You have my ears all hours of the day. And if there is anything I can ever do to help you, do not hesitate to bring it up.”

                A shared look between the guards.

                “We wish for nothing, my lady.” Tala is the first to recover. “Other than to humbly fulfill our duties to you and our country in turn.”

                “I know.” I say softly, eyes now on the ground. “But I wish to thank you whenever I can. This is an assignment I did not wish for anyone to take up. Not on my behalf, at least. So know that I will never think lightly of your posts.”

                Orthos chuckles. “A humble lady. Lord Kazekage is blessed to have such a levelheaded and tender-hearted woman at his side.”

                My face flushes when Uncle chimes in with his own half-mumbled agreement. Zaphir’s smile and Tala’s level expression reassure me that they too believe it to be true. I’m on the verge of grateful tears. In the hours to come when everyone would soon be distrustful of me and perhaps hold their hatred over my head, it was a blessing to know these four gathered around me believed some good to come from this all.

                “Well, let us not dally any longer, or I’m afraid he will be missing one such woman as we stumble in at too late an hour.” Zaphir’s cheery grin reassures me that it won’t be the case. Not on her watch, at least. “Come along, Aylin. And you as well, Tala. We will need every woman’s opinion to make our new lady to be shine like the most brilliant star this evening.”

                I can tell Tala’s doesn’t want to be included, but when she sighs in defeat, it's clear she thinks the better of speaking her mind. “Very well.”

                It’s a tedious process. Long, trying steps that can’t be rushed. Not if we wish to appease whatever silly image of near-perfection Zaphir has conjured within her mind. I’m bathed in an aromatic mixture of herbs and flowers that sends the whole below-level floor of our home smelling like a foreign meadow blooming under the spring sun. While my hair dries, I’m patted dry and moisturized with creams and concoctions I have no knowledge of nor expertise in applying myself.  

                “You and Orthos seem a pair straight out of a tale.” I say when the conversation has died away and the silence becomes unnerving. Zaphir’s been altering the gown, now hanging in all its brilliance against one of the walls, but she turns to give me a cheery grin for the offhanded compliment. “Would it be rude of me to ask how you two fell in love?”

                A giggle escapes from her lips. “Of course not. Well, it’s not much of a tale, I’m afraid. When I was still just a seamstress training under the old owner of the business I now own myself, I’d been traveling back home one evening with a large box of scraps to practice various hems and new embroidery patterns on. Orthos appeared out of nowhere, joking with his team members during their last night in town before a mission. Their sudden appearance frightened me straight out of my skin, and the box right out of my hands. It fell right on his foot, poor man,” She laughs. “And when our eyes met, it was just this… instant connection, I suppose. There really isn’t a word to perfectly describe such a feeling.”

                She’s blushing now, obviously warmed by the recollection. I can’t help but feel a little envious. It was a love straight of a fairy tale. The true, steadfast kind everyone yearned for but so few received. My heart plummets. A love I would never know. And one I could never offer Gaara in turn.

                “And then?” It seems rude to press for more, but the tale was well needed. I don’t want to think of myself. My weary mind and broken spirit needed any distractions they could get. “How long was it until you were wed?”

                “Quite a while, milady.” She confesses kindly. “Orthos was a busy man, and I a busy woman. We did not want to rush into anything despite knowing such a love begged for union between us. The people of Sunagakure were much more- how should I put it? - intolerant about the marriage between shinobi and regular civilians.”

                “Indeed.” I know this very well myself from being born into the unlucky lot who did not hold any qualifications for becoming a ninja. “But the complaint behind them is now laid to rest, correct? That the children of such a union are still shinobi?”

                “As a mother of three shinobi, I can reassure you of that.” She appears a little pale now, her blue eyes not as energetic as before. “Though we will have to caution our children against marrying those who are not shinobi. While one generation of shinobi genes overpowers the recessive gene of having no powers, the following generation is in danger of having two recessive genes.”

                “Then why did they choose me?” I echo, suddenly afraid for the lives of children not yet born from my womb. “Shouldn’t my non-shinobi status have disqualified me from marrying Gaara then?”

                “They don’t care, seeing as your union will produce shinobi regardless.” Tala informs me. I blink in shock. “One generation at a time is all they are worried about. One group to manipulate and conform to their ideals is all they find of worth at the moment.”

                I give her a sidelong look. “Comments like that are dangerous, Tala.”

                “I’m not afraid.” She scoffs, sitting a little more relaxed than before on the floor nearest the door. “Nor should you be. Those councilmen know exactly what they are doing. Don’t turn a blind eye to it.”

                “I’m not that type of woman.” I reassure her.

                A rare smile that disappears when I blink a moment later. “I think we are well aware of that.”

                 Uncle brings down a midday snack for us all, his eyes burning with unshed tears as they sweep over me sitting in my loose-fitting robe. “My precious desert rose.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. “Do not get trampled under the feet of anyone who thinks your beauty erroneous. And please forgive me for not being able to do more for you.”

                “Don’t cry, Uncle.” I squeeze his arm, choked by tears myself. “I want you to look at me this evening and feel pride, not sadness. Will you do that for me?”

                “I am already proud of you.” He smooths a hand over my slightly damp locks. “And always will be. So if you see my face among the crowd know that such is all will you see.”

                Orthos steals a kiss from his wife when he enters a moment later. “All well, ladies?”

                “Until you appeared.” Tala grumbles, eyeing the door he’s almost slammed into her upon his arrival.

                He laughs. “I’m wounded, Tala. Does your scorn know no end?”

                She seems dazed for a moment and lifts a hand to silence him. Her eyes take on a startling blue hue- like the base of a flame- and we all watch as she reverts within herself for the span of a few minutes. I’m worried, thinking there is some kind of danger nearby, but when she blinks in this realm around us, looking not at all bothered, I’m a little wary to know what’s just happened.

                “Lord Kazekage wished to check in on you.” She informs me levelly. My heart begins to race. Gaara could communicate with Tala? How so? “He was worried you would be in tears.”

                I laugh lightly. “Did he now? Well, I hope you’ve told him that isn’t the case.”

                “He’s been informed, my lady.” She snorts. “And finally relieved to know you’re alright.”

                Zaphir laughs. “Our poor lord. I can only imagine him pacing nervously in his office today trying to keep his wits about him.”

                “Betrothal and the like can do that to a man.” Her husband scrunches his face in an almost humorous way. “Or do you forget the walking wreck I was the night I asked for your hand?”

                “How could I?” She pats his cheek while grinning lovingly at him. “But yes, I agree. Admitting you have a weaker side of yourself… knowing you need one other half to become whole… it makes you vulnerable. Something a man should never be, hm?”

                 I blink. “Why should Gaara feel vulnerable? You must be forgetting that this betrothal is not forged from love.”

                “A union is a union regardless, milady.” Orthos smiles a little wider. “To have a partner means letting sides of yourself not usually seen be evident to them. To confide words, of love or not, that only their ears will hear. Worries that you will fail, falter, or harm them unknowingly. Anticipation of what the future may hold together and that one day it may bring about a new life- a new legacy that too will depend upon you to nurture and sustain it for as long as it lives. When it is all taken into consideration, how could you not feel as though your soul will be laid bare in one way or another?”

                I see all the images he paints. Gaara, quiet as we sit around the campfire, then cautiously gentle as he coaxed me out of that horrid attack a few weeks later. I see him telling me a tale and his solitary stance that first night I told him a tale as well. The past images blur in with ones not yet come, though I know they will. The first touch of his hand against my own, a whispered comment in my ear, and a night of us both sitting wrapped in blankets unable to sleep, followed by one of us sharing a kiss and slowly putting faith in the works a human body to make a child.

                I’m nervous. Mortified. Terrified. Knowing Gaara, he had already seen these images himself and worried all the more.

                “It’s already past midday.” Uncle relays the message with obvious melancholy. “We should leave you to ready yourself, Aylin.”

                I force myself to smile. My mind is trapped in its own worries now, knowing that the clock was steadily ticking to what was sure to be an event of more pain than pleasure for us all. “Thank you.”

                Zaphir takes her time, rushing nothing as I’m rearranged to shine like a diamond. The loose locks that once billowed over my shoulders are brushed and oiled, sending another fragrant flower-filled aroma into the air as she begins plaiting it all back into some sort of up do. Tala is forced to help from time to time, but she remains complacently settled on the floor for most of the preparations. We take a break from time to time for various bodily needs, but soon- oh gods, too soon- the dress is pulled down from the wall and placed on me instead.

                It’s close fitting, but not at all immodest to make it insensible for the sort of ceremony this would all turn out to be. The blond etched such lovely embroideries across the collar and the trumpet sleeves, tiny silver flowers and swirling patterns that all melded together in one cohesive string. The cream pairs well with the emerald inlay cut into the front panel of the gown’s skirt as well as my sun-kissed skin tone. If anything thing is to my displeasure, it’s the corset back that is tightened painfully close to my spine to keep the gown in place.

                I’m settled back onto a stool and fussed over yet again as she feels the need to enhance my face with make-up. The blonde narrows her gaze and puckers her lips, attention completely absorbed by making me into a masterpiece, and I try my best to sit still as not to disturb her. Tala is silent herself, probably growing bored with the feminine necessity the other woman poked and prodded me with.

                She whisks me into my room down the hall to look into the mirror. And it takes me a moment to realize that the woman she’s guiding by the shoulders is actually me. I’m beautiful. Breathtakingly so, even from my usually harsh criticism. The chestnut locks are pulled into soft waves and plaits beneath a traditional circlet made of silver and small jewels. My blue-gray eyes appear brightened by the charcoal lining around them, and my glowing face seems completely natural- even the deep pink hue my lips are now stained.

                And the gown- the breath catches as I take in the blonde's masterful creation. My gods. Even a princess in a tale would feel out of place in it.

                “Well, my lady?” Zaphir peeks her head from around my left shoulder and grins. “Is it all to your liking?”

                “I’m all amazement.” I breathe, still in disbelief as the woman in the mirror moves her lips as I feel mine do. I avert my eyes to look in gratitude at her. “You are patient and wonderful beyond what words can describe, Zaphir. Thank you.” I tremble as the debt I now owed to her and her husband grew. “Truly.”

                She smiles a little more tenderly. “No need for thanks, my lady. You do us all a tremendous honor by accepting this role. Let us only hope this village will look kindly to you. For if they do,” Her lips lift. “I’m sure they will benefit greatly from it.”

                A veil is placed around my head to shield my visage from view when we reunite with the men. Uncle looks at me as if his whole world is ending, silver eyes lacking their usual metallic luster that made him appear so witty and vibrant. He lifts both of my hands to press a kiss along my knuckles, choked to the point that he cannot utter a single word. After a while, Zaphir lays a hand on his back and mutters that the two of them must depart. I tell him I love him one last time, and he finally finds the strength to echo those words before exiting quickly from the house alongside the blonde.

                “Ready, my lady?” Orthos dips before me a short while later, now completely in guard mode. I give a small coo of agreement, suddenly wracked with the onset of nerves for the first time in hours, and hope I do not look as frightened as I feel. “Very well. Let us be on our way.”

                The village is silent. Deserted. Tala walks along on one side of me as Orthos leads the way. Both are quiet, though I think for very different reasons than I am. I can see it all now. The citizens of this country below me, watching me with hatred clear on their faces. _Unworthy_. Their expression screams inside my mind. _Who has made you Lady of the Sand? We will never accept you._

                A hand on my back startles me back to the empty street around us.

                “Please breathe, my lady.” Tala commands me as she senses my growing panic. “We are almost to the government office.”

                The inside of the building is fraught with the councilmen who all stop to extend some sort of congratulatory comment on my behalf. I take it all in complete silence, dipping my covered head in thanks or greeting as Orthos calmly leads us up to the top floor. I wonder if we will see Gaara first, or if there will be another wait. All I hope is that we do not meet with anyone else. For I do not think my heart could take it if we did.

                Oh, how bitterly cruel the sting of realization is when we amble into the room leading to the balcony set aside for most royal decrees to find three inhabitants already there.

                 Kankuro and Temari sit with some contained anxiety themselves, eyes falling directly on me as we are allowed access into the room. Another man is there, imposing but vaguely familiar as my eyes sweep across his face half-shielded by a dangling section of cloth that fell from his neatly kept turban. He was presumably a relative or close member to these siblings, and he looks the most at ease out of the trio. Gaara is nowhere to be seen, but when I hear his voice now ringing from just outside, I know it has already begun.

                My heart races too quickly in my chest. I’m sick to my stomach. One of my legs begins to shake, but I keep my knees bent, willing myself not to faint with everyone watching on. It’s clear by Kankuro’s slightly curious mask and Temari’s uncommonly polite one that they still don’t know. And I can’t find the strength within me to break this tragic news to them of my own accord.

                “Breathe a count of four in, then six out.” Tala’s at my ear, guiding me out of a panic attack I’m sure would turn everything into more of a chaotic mess than it already was. “Good, my lady. Very good. Can you attempt to do a six count in, then eight count out?”

                She only manages to get me through a few rounds of the breathing exercise before the doors leading outside are opened. Gaara steps into view now, looking oddly regal in his own formal Kazekage robe. My guards lower to their knees as his siblings stand to their own feet, a silent moment of reverence to him and I suppose to me in turn. He takes a step towards me as I too prostrate myself, breath shaking out of my nose, but his feet pause when he is in front of my knelt form.

                One hand, then another, rests against the veil until it is cautiously pulled backwards to remove it from my face. There is a moment when his eyes widen, but the amazed expression is quickly forgotten as a recoil of breath echoes beside us. An explosion of noise soon erupts from Kankuro and Temari’s mouths. I flinch. The man beside them is quick to restrain them when they both snarl in what was sure to be a mixture of anger, disbelief, and broken trust on both Gaara’s behalf and my own. Poor Tala and Orthos are forced to intervene when Kuro breaks free, face burning with unsuppressed rage, intent on becoming physical as his emotions blotted out reason.

                Gaara appears not at all fazed on the surface, but I am sure he is as upset as I am within. But he will not show it. Nor can I. The time to confront them was not now.

                He politely offers me one of his hands, and I stand to my feet after placing my own within his hold. And then we both turn, unified by this small touch, and amble back out onto the balcony. The amber light floods down from the partially cloudy afternoon sky, sending a shimmer of gold and orange light across the cream material of my gown and Gaara’s outer robe. Then the sky gives way to earth below, and I’m meeting the gaze of a thousand spectators.

                There’s a split-second of silence before the roar of various shouts, exclamations, and applause breaks out over the masses. I see Gaara lift his other hand, obviously thanking them all for the variety of responses to seeing us together, and I force myself to smile, knowing I could not lift my own hand as it trembled violently against my side.

                But after standing there beside him for a short while, I feel something. An odd peace that seemed to go against the overall terror threatening to swallow me whole. _I will protect you, Aylin_. I hear that steadfast promise of his ring in my ears as the congratulatory noise still blasts through the air. _No matter the price._

                And protect me he did when the noise died down, the masses were sent away with a polite word of thanks, and we were forced back inside to where the chaos met us straightaway.

                “ _You_.” Kuro growls, lunging for me as the door to the balcony is shut behind us. I cower, expecting a strong hit, but as a shadow falls over me, no harm comes to my body. My eyes fly open, and there’s Gaara, holding his brother’s arm poised to strike with some obvious force. A violently tense moment as the two brothers share a look, and the older of the two staggers back a few steps out of his hold.

                “Not a word to Aylin.” Gaara’s almost predatory defense of me makes my skin raise in a ripple of goosebumps. “Not one. She had no part in this. Am I understood?”

                “I don’t believe you.” Temari’s pinched features speak of rage barely controlled. “How can you look at her and not think for a moment that-”

                “Enough.” Gaara does not budge. If anything he seems all the more feral as his siblings stand on one side of the room and us on the other. “Tell them, Baki.” His eyes fall on the strange man between them. “Tell them I speak the truth.”

                “Lord Kazekage is right.” The man confesses with a deep, steady voice. He looks at me, then at Gaara, and lastly at the fuming siblings now slowly releasing their bodily tension as he too seconded my husband-to-be’s statement. “The board of councilmen reviewed all prospective women in the country and found this young woman here to be best suited to fulfilling what they believed the Lady of the Sand’s role to be. There was no plea on her behalf nor any underhanded coercion she enacted to be chosen. Neither she nor Gaara knew of this until it was all said and done with.”

                A short uncomfortable silence falls as Temari and Kankuro process the unfortunate news.

                “Damn it!” Kankuro balls his hands into tight fists and looks utterly defeated. “This isn’t right. This isn’t how this should have gone.” His eyes, now burning with tears, fall upon his brother. “Why didn’t you tell them? That Aylin and I, we were-“

                “Saying anything would not have swayed them.” Gaara murmurs. “Not unless a proposal had been made before their search began.”

                “So this is it?” Temari slides her gaze from her youngest brother to me, her blue eyes void of any light. “You two will marry, and Kuro’s left heartbroken? Is that what you’re telling me?”

                Gaara stance screams of discomfort. “I’m sorry, Temari. Kankuro. But the deed is done, the document sealed, and the masses alerted. Aylin is to be my bride. She is no longer able to give her heart to anyone, as much as I am sure she wishes to.”

                 Kankuro’s eyes fall on me, his grief-filled tears barely contained. “Aren’t you going to say anything? Anything at all?”

                “Forgive me.” I plead, the self-loathing tears spilling ceaselessly from my own eyes. “I-I wanted to tell you-“

                He turns away, looking completely disgusted. “But instead you lied to me. All those apologies about damaged ledgers and time well-spent for the betterment of the caravan… those were merely cover-ups, weren’t they?” I clench a hand into the back of Gaara’s robe and whimper. Kankuro scoffs, his tightened features now full of loathing. “I can’t believe it. You sicken me. Both of you. Don’t ever speak to me again. Do you hear me?”

                And with that said, he walks out of the room and shuts the door with a violent slam. We all watch him leave, and I’m swaying as the world begins to spin in slow circles across my eyes. There’s a hand planted on each of my shoulders as I almost faint on the spot. Orthos is murmuring in my ear, clearly concerned, and slowly lowers me to the ground so that I can sit for the first time in over an hour.

                Gaara turns, eyes wide as he sees me now shaking on the floor and hurries to kneel before me. Orthos is just behind me, keeping me upright, and I fight the terror back, pushing it down deep beneath my bleeding heart that will probably never cease crying at the mess I’ve made of everyone’s lives. Crying would not change anything. Nor would collapsing in a heap of terror-induced tremors. Gaara dips his head as I finally calm a few moments later, guilty as the weight of this day hits him hard as well.

                “Temari, Baki, leave us be.” A murmur for peace emerges from his lips. “Please. I need a moment alone with Aylin.”

                “Take all the time you need.” His sister’s scorn in evident in her dripping retort. “Because if you ever think you can spend a moment with her around me, or Kuro for that matter, you have another thing coming.” I can feel her teal eyes burning holes into me without even having to look at her. “And if she ever thinks to approach me on equal terms now that she’s snagged a title she’s not worthy of, I won’t hesitate to put her in her place, with or without force.”

                Gaara turns. His seafoam eyes sweep with some seriousness over his sister's face. “If you dare threaten her, you threaten me as well. Siblings we may be, but I will not tolerate it as the Kazekage. Get out of here, Temari. Now.”

                Another loud pop from the door as she too leaves. “Forgive me, Baki.” Gaara apologizes to the man still within the room. “I had thought you would never have to see the three of us fall apart again.”

                “You have no reason to apologize to me.” The other man reassures him gently. “They just need some time to clear their minds and see things as they really are. Though I am saddened that this was their initial reaction to it all.” A small sigh. “But let me leave you all be. Good evening, my lord. My lady.”

                Gaara waits until he has left to give me a slow look over. “Are you alright?”

                “I don’t want to lie anymore.” I whimper, head hung low as the guilt weighs it down. “My heart… it can’t much more of this.”

                “Forgive me, Aylin.” His voice is soft with genuine remorse. “Truly. Your engagement should have been a happy thing. But because it is with me, you have and will be on the verge of tears for some time. Such a thing is cruel.”

                “This is your engagement too.” I remind him sadly. “And one you should have celebrated with your siblings. Now the three of you are forced to spew venomous words at each other. If anything is cruel, it’s that.”

                “Whether it is or not,” He sighs at length. “This is what has happened. We cannot change it, as much as I’m sure we both wish we could. But know this: your burdens are my own. Your hopes and fears something I too must be attuned to. So learn to trust in me.”

                A small smile. “I already trust you, Gaara.”

                We sit in silence for a moment, but he finally finds the words. “Let me walk you home. Tala. Orthos,” I blink in shock. Ah yes. Those two were still present. “Go on ahead of us. I will need you both on watch this evening.”

                A unanimous agreement of fealty from both guards. Orthos’ warm hands are retracted from my shoulders, and I feel frozen. So frozen that not even the sweltering heat on a summer’s day could thaw me completely.

                “Can you stand?” Gaara ventures. I nod. “Good. Let me escort you to your uncle then. I am sure Nobu will not breathe easy until you are returned safely to him.”

                We are stopped by various clusters of curious villagers on our walk back. I take all the prayers for a fruitful union when the day came with a smile, knowing that the last thing on my mind right now was romance or raising children. There was no love nor lust tethering this man and me together. Only a forced decree and a meek acceptance to this narrow future fraught with heavy stipulations.

                Uncle opens the door before Gaara can knock. He gestures for us both to come inside and shuts the door with some force. One look at my face and he knows I’m miserable. But he is smart enough to not make a comment.

                “Zaphir’s brought us all dinner.” His eyes fall on Gaara. “You too, Lord Kazekage, so please stay. I am sure you do not wish to return home based on what my niece’s face tells me.”

                “Ah, thank you.” Gaara’s shocked, but he recovers quickly. “But I will excuse myself. I am in need of some air.” He turns to look at me. “I will leave you be, Aylin, for a few days following. Though the betrothal now announced between us will make me come a few times a week to gather you or they will think it a farce.”

                I offer him a fleeting smile. “I see. Well, we wouldn’t want that now that this has actually been put into effect, hm?”

                “Good evening, Nobu. Aylin.” He turns on his heel, posture rigid with an inability to talk about this anymore. “Until later.”

                “Be careful, Gaara.” My concerned comment is soft when it emerges. “I look forward to spending some more time with you.”

                A small nod that he’s heard what I said, but nothing more. I can’t help but think that he wished to put as much space between us as possible. But I know as well as he does that he will return, and this whole insensitive scheme will move onto its next stage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the news is finally out. Poor souls. Some who are in support of it, others who aren't... how will this all pan out??
> 
> Thank you to everyone reading like always. It makes my chest fill with such warmth to see you all coming back for more installations. I hope you all are enjoying it. Until next time!


	10. Trust

              The following week is odd. I’m confined indoors for many days following the announcement, Tala and Orthos both on high alert. There is a skirmish outside the house one of those nights as I lay in my bed, heart threatening to beat so hard that it will break free from my chest. It's at that very moment when I realize how serious the threat for danger really is. But my guards will not speak of it. Neither will Uncle. We all attempt to keep ourselves preoccupied with games or other activities when we gather together, but it is a foolish attempt to blot out the unrest lingering just outside of this house.

                I can’t help but feel guilty. Mostly for Tala and Orthos, who are forced to spend those days completely with me when I’m sure they missed their regular routines and time with loved ones. They take turns sleeping for a few hours at a time, and it’s terrible, watching them both fall into an exhausted slumber in a quiet corner of the house. I drape a blanket over Tala’s sitting form as she sleeps with her head dipped towards the ground and tuck a fresh pillow or two onto the couch in the main sitting room for Orthos when his large frame is deposited there to rest. If they know it’s me doing so, they make no indication of it. I wish there was something more I could do to show them how truly humbled I was to have them making such a sacrifice, but they both reassure me that it is no hassle on their behalf.

                Uncle is busy getting ready for another trip abroad, but from the small talks I have overhead between him and Orthos, he worries that the caravan will be targeted to retaliate against Gaara through harming me. My heart drops to know that even his life is placed into danger by this forced engagement, and I worry that someday soon I will have no family left to support me. But I cannot beg him to stay, nor can I do anything to protect him.

                Weak. Powerless. Useless. I feel the weight of those three words in the span of time promptly following the public announcement. Everywhere I went there were eyes watching me, measuring my worth. It was clear I wasn't what the village expected if they had even been expecting Gaara to take a spouse. They didn't try to hush their whispers about my non-shinobi bloodline or my supposed romantic connection to Kankuro either. A harlot, they labeled me without qualm. A deceptive female who used her wit and womanly sway to gain any advantage she could in life.

                 Those underhanded comments echo endlessly in my head when I lay in bed unable to sleep. Their scorn was something I had reaped upon my own head. I had hurt Kankuro. I had consciously led him on, all the while knowing I didn't love him. And that made me a terrible person- someone who didn't deserve this lofty title or the attention of a kind-hearted redhead with enough problems of his own.

                Gaara, true to his word, stops by a few afternoons once the initial shock of our betrothal dies away. He escorts me around the village for a walk, talk awkward and at times nonexistent between us. Sometimes he joins us for dinner, and it’s a little easier then to speak with someone else around. But days when he is burdened by an overflow of stress from work and I by my terrors, we sit side by side on the couch in the sitting room and tell a tale much like we had the nights on that trip now almost a year in the past.

                His first gift is a cactus. Orthos gets a hearty laugh when the prickly plant is given to me, its sandstone pot wrapped with a silk ribbon, but I truly enjoy the gift most other women would have taken with a forced comment of thanks. Gaara looked so out of place giving it, his tense movements speaking of bone-deep nervousness, but when he sees my genuine delight for it, he reverts back to his normal self in an instant. The little cactus is added to my collection of succulents at first, but soon is placed on the table beside my bed so that I can look at it every night. I allow him to see my collection of plants, suddenly remembering his fondness for them himself, and he seems so at ease amongst the desert-friendly flora that we can talk without any awkwardness like we had at the beginning.

                I give him a book of my favorite fairy tales as a gift in return a few days later, and he reads the entirety of the hearty compilation in one night. We discuss the tales, converse about our favorites, and push ourselves to find a possible turn that could have been taken that would have been feasible instead of the chosen ending. He sees my sharp wit and sarcasm emerge, but if he thinks them offensive, there’s no indication. I believe, by the light dancing in his eyes, that he enjoys it as much as my uncle does.

                Uncle is gone on another trade shortly afterwards, and I feel so lonely left on my own with no ledgers nor logs to busy myself with. The terrors come back strong as my only source of stability is nonexistent, and I feel ashamed that both of my guards are forced to juggle calming me while continuing their duties throughout the night. Neither Tala nor Orthos ever bring it up, though; even when I croak an apology to them after the terror has passed, they both reassure me that I have nothing to apologize for.

                I opt to distract myself with making a nice dinner for Gaara. He’s been scarce these past few days, but such was the life of the Kazekage. The man seems a little hesitant to accept my offer for a meal- probably unsure if he could keep his promise than the fact that he did not wish to dine with me- but he relents when he sees how badly I need some company. It gives me enough peace to calm the nightmares back into silence, energizes me to scour the market for the most delectable ingredients, and sends a song tilting from my throat as I carefully set about making the meal itself.

                “Smells absolutely enticing, milady.” Orthos praises me as he sits at the table enjoying some tea during the short break I forced him to take. “I am sure Lord Kazekage will enjoy it greatly.”

                I wipe my hands on the worn apron I’ve donned and smile. “Let’s hope so. His life is so void of any great pleasure while being cooped inside that stuffy office. The least I could do was make something to please his stomach after a long day of work.”

                “I think he is pleased just spending time with you.” A grin from the guard. “Though if you think his days so tedious, why not approach him about joining him at the office for a tea break or the like? It would give you another reason to leave this house and give him a change in scenery with you around.”

                I blink, a little amazed that he had conjured such a brilliant idea before I had. “You are a wise man, Orthos.” I praise him with evident delight, but falter as I realize Gaara could very easily say no as he could yes. “But do you think he will agree?”

                He offers me a dry chuckle in response. “Believe me, milady, he has little reason not to. So do not fret and ask him when he arrives.”

                Gaara, however, does not arrive.

                 I feed Orthos while the food is still hot, head propped against one of my hands as the other traces random patterns into the wooden top of the table. It’s hard not being disappointed, but I know he did not do this because he wished to shun me. He must have been flooded with so much work that he had to linger late in the office. I couldn’t help but feel a trickle of sadness all the same. How many more nights like this would occur when we were actually wed and he would be the only person I would see when the sun set and when it rose again in the morning?

                “Eat, milady.” Orthos sees my downhearted mulling and tries to eradicate it. “Do not think that you must wait any longer for your betrothed. It will be time to retire soon, and he will feel even guiltier knowing you went without a meal completely at his expense.”

                 I stand to my feet with a descending sigh. “Thank you for the concern, but I think I’ll wait just a little longer in case he does show up. If you have need of me, I’ll be on the couch in the sitting room.”

                “As you wish, milady.” He can’t say otherwise, though it’s clear he would have.

                The darkness of the room only boosts my fatigue. My womanly cycle would begin in the next few days, and the time preceding it always made me bone-deep weary. I made a mental reminder to alert Tala and Orthos that my nightmares would most likely get worse during this time, but as my breathing deepens, I find nothing of consequence pressing me to think at the moment. The exhaustion surges stronger and I tell myself I would only close my eyes for a few minutes.

                “-waiting for some time.” Orthos’ voice filters into the silence. “All the while insistent that she would not eat until you did.”

                A steady warmth floods against my left cheek and down along that same side of my body. I stir slightly, sighing softly as the comforting heat radiates against me. When had I gotten into bed?

                “I see.” The voice rumbles right against my ear, tugging me from my complacent, half-asleep observations. Gaara. My heart does a flip-flop inside of my chest as my body begins to sway without any command from me. “Let me put her to bed and I’ll eat with Tala.”

                “Very good, my lord.” We’re moving again. Another heart thumps in my left ear, and I’m mortified as the scenario dawns on me. It was still evening. Gaara had finally shown up, only to find that I had fallen asleep on the couch while waiting for him. And probably guilty for seeing me in such a state, he had scooped me into his arms so I could sleep in my own bed. “I’ll bid you good evening.”

                “Likewise, Orthos.” We’re stepping down the stairwell to the bottom floor now. “Tell Zaphir and the children I said hello.”

                He’s so gentle with me. Almost tenderly so. I’m carried much like I had been the night I had that terrible tumble down the hillside: my reclining form is cradled in his arms with his palms warm against my own skin where they held me softly but secure. He steps slowly down the hall, footsteps cautious as they balance his form with my added weight also taken into consideration until they come to a soft halt. Part of me wonders how he will open the door with me in his arms, but there’s a soft stirring of wind and grating sand followed by a click of the knob that reassures me he’s opened it by other means.

                I’m torn between pretending to stay asleep or waking up to face him as he gingerly deposits me against the mattress. After a moment of weighing both options, I decide I wanted to spend time with him. If he had come this late, it spoke that he wished to do the same.

                A coo of a yawn escapes my lips as I slowly crack my eyes open from their sleep-crusted states. Gaara’s busy rearranging the blanket to pull it up against my reclining body, but he halts abruptly when his eyes drift back to my face and sees me awake. He abandons the task and comes to settle a little closer to me on the mattress.

                “Gaara.” I smile sleepily, warmed to the core to see him near. “You’re here.”

                “Forgive me, Aylin.” He laments immediately, seafoam eyes burning with unspoken remorse. “I did not keep my promise to you in a timely manner.”

                My smile grows. “But you stopped by all the same. That’s what matters.”

                He fidgets uncomfortably. “I should let you get some rest. It is late in the evening. You should be retiring now as it is.”

                “Don’t go.” I murmur, oddly hungry for his attention. “Let’s eat together.”

                A slight hesitation. I know he probably wants me to get rest over entertaining him over a meal, but he won’t say no. Not after making me wait up for him as long as he had. “Very well.”

                Tala’s in the dining room but promptly makes her departure with a mug of tea in her hand when we come up the stairs. Gaara makes me settle onto a stool as he gathers us both a portion of the now lukewarm meal. I take my share with a smile that’s immediately followed by a long yawn. He glances at me, clearly still thinking it unwise to keep me up, but when he eats without a comment to me, I know he won’t say anything on the matter. 

                “A lot of work bogging you down?” I ask gently once we’ve sat in silence for some time. “Nothing too serious, I hope.”

                His fork abruptly stops its absentminded movements across his food. I can tell he’s trying to find a way to tell me without divulging too much, but he doesn’t look pleased saying anything at all. My mouth opens to tell him not to worry about saying anything, but he speaks before I can.

                “There was an assignation attempt today.” The fork falls from my own hand as the statement registers. My heart stops beating as the horrible scenario hits me. What? No. An assas.. The word blurs in my mind, unable to be processed. “Obviously unsuccessful, since I am still here.”

                My eyes fill with tears. “Oh Gaara, I-”

                “It will not be the first nor the last, I’m afraid.” He crosses his hands above the table and rests his chin against them, contemplative but concerned. “I did not wish to worry you, but if you are to be my wife, I thought it best to confess so you can prepare yourself for the future when such a threat will still be present.”

                I dip my head. “And the supposed assassin? Were they-”

                “Disposed of, yes.” His icy reply signals he did not enjoy relaying this gruesome detail. “By my own hands.”

                I shake, so overwhelmed with sorrow that I can neither speak nor cry. Gaara’s silent himself-uncomfortably so- and I’m afraid he won’t say another word for the rest of the evening to save me from anymore grief. He must think himself an ill omen in my life with all the strife that’s come from this betrothal.

                He stands to his feet slowly, eyes in another world. “I should not have come this evening.” He murmurs. “Allow me t-“

                “No!”

                 I reach a hand out and grab him by the wrist so he cannot leave in such a state. I can feel him jerk back from the unexpected contact, but he stands just as he had been. His eyes are now on me, face smooth of any emotion or thought, and I’m afraid. Afraid for him to get lost in the darkness I know lingers just beneath his surface.

                “Stay, Gaara.” My eyes do not falter from his own. “Please. Do not go in such a state.”

                I can see him battling with himself, trying to weigh appeasing me over appeasing himself in the moments to come. When his eyes drift down to the table, I can feel my breath hitch. He was going to say no. Why-

                “Tell me a tale.” He sounds like a child woken from a nightmare and desperately in need of someone’s tender touches. “Please.”

                I remove my hold on him. “Of course.” I say softly while standing to my feet. “Go on to the sitting room. I just need to grab something.”

                He does not ask why and merely directs himself in the direction of the parlor. I hurry down the stairs to my room and pull out the small handmade charm I kept about me when the world seemed so dark that I feared I would be swallowed whole by it sooner than later. It had been a gift from my mother when I had been about six. A chubby, silly-looking pygmy owl whose button eyes had been reattached too many times to count in the last twelve years and whose silken chest held stains of dirt, tears, and spilled meals.

                How this thing had survived the explosion at the trade post was as much a conundrum as me surviving that fateful fire myself. Uncle found it in the mud when the charred rubble had been scoured for any hope- any chance of life to be salvaged. And I held on tight to this childish token of love and joy despite my growing age ever since.

                Gaara’s sitting bent over on the couch, head dipped towards the floor as his arms remain languidly settled against his thighs. If he hears me enter, he gives no indication. I squat cautiously before him and wedge the little owl into his pale hands. His head jerks back, a sudden intake of breath pushing into his nose and mouth, but when he sees it is me, he stills.

                “This is Tolka.” I smile lightly as his fingers brush against the handmade toy with some curiosity. “My mother crafted him after the Talking Bird from the trials of Princess Parizade. Shall I weave her tale of magic and mayhem this evening?”

                I settle on the couch beside him and gesture for him to rest his head against my lap. A moment of almost debilitating fear overtakes his now tightened features, but it begins to thaw as the endearing smile on my face warms him instead. He is cautious- oh so painfully delicate- as his mane of flaming crimson hair now flies in every direction against my thighs. Those dark-rimmed seafoam eyes watch me unwavering, but when I smooth a hand over his forehead and through his locks dusted with sand, they slowly close and my tale begins to be uttered over the silence now filling the room.

                It’s a long story, full of fey magic with enough misfortune and mystery to keep the plot moving without losing anyone’s attention. Gaara’s calmed completely over the time the fable leaves my lips, his head now heavy against my thighs as he lays relaxed with Tolka cradled limply against his abdomen. I continue my caresses, soft and slow as the intricate sweeps miss no part of his face nor any lock of his hair, and it’s evident by his utterly vulnerable state that he finds no qualm with my tender touch.

                We sit in silence for a short time after the three magical items gathered by the princess and her brother found and offered to the sultan at the end of the tale. His breathing has deepened in the last half hour and I can’t help but wonder if he’s fallen asleep. But when my touch ends and he cracks an eye open to look at me, almost begging for the slow sweeps of my fingers to begin again, I can’t help but giggle.

                “I thought you asleep for a moment.” I tease, eyebrows raised as he readjusts himself slightly with a small yawn.

                He blinks in shock. “Ah, no. Though your rhythmic words and cautious caresses would have done the trick had I been any other man.”

                “I see.” I smile, not at all bothered. He was relaxed. That was all that mattered. “As long as you’re alright, that’s all that is of importance.”

                “Thanks to you, Aylin, I find myself at ease.” He looks at me with unspoken gratitude. “Though a little in awe that you can speak a tale and I am enveloped completely.”

                “Perhaps I am a reincarnation of Scheherazade.” I muse jokingly, smirking all the while. “And it is my duty to tell you a thousand and one tales until you fall in love with me.”

                A tiny blush colors his cheeks. I’ve caught him off-guard with my witty retort. My smirk turns into an amused smile. So even the stoic Kazekage himself could feel embarrassment.

                “My lord.” Tala’s voice wafts in from just outside the entryway to the room. “My lady. It is improper to linger together any longer this evening. You must part ways or have gossip spread across the village when morning breaks.”

                Gaara slowly lifts himself and runs a hand over his disheveled locks. The other is still holding onto Tolka, and I have a feeling he won’t release my little charm of good luck and affection anytime soon. Not that I had intended to take it back this evening. If anyone needed a trinket with protective powers, it was him.

                 “Tala is right. I’ve stayed too long.” He stands to his feet and offers me his free hand. I take it with a tiny grin, happy that he was starting to let me in after all these weeks. “There very well may be gossip when morning comes, but rest assured that I will put an end to it. Your modesty and virtue will not be put under scrutiny.”

                A dry chuckle escapes my lips. If only he knew how much gossip had already been uttered on my behalf throughout the village. “Had I been worried about such a thing, I would have thanked you ceaselessly. But I shall thank you none the less, since I know you do so out of kindness and regards to me.”

                “As I should being your betrothed.” He replies calmly. “Well,” He looks down at Tolka and attempts to offer the little bird back to me. I shake my head and push the toy back into his hold. A sound of surprise falls from his lips. “Do you wish me to keep such a thing? Even when it means so much to you?”

                “That is exactly the reason I wish for you to hold onto it.” I murmur in a hushed tone. “For he will protect you when I cannot.”

                The expression he offers me is full of gratitude. “Thank you, Aylin. I'll treasure it.” A dip of his head a few moments later. “I’ll bid you good evening for now.”

                “Gaara?”

                He’s turned towards the door with Tolka now gently stuffed into his outer vest, but he turns back at the call of his name. “Yes?”

                “May I…” I clasp my hands behind my back, suddenly sheepish. “Visit you, tomorrow? At the office? I’ll make us some tea and you can-”

                “Not tomorrow.” My heart drops. The feeling of being utterly defeated floods my veins. How easily he had turned me down. “There will be a bad lightning storm and I do not want you to get caught in it. The day following will be better.” He turns away after seeing my face light up in absolute delight. “Just come up to my office when it is convenient and I’ll spare some time for you.”

                “Alright.” My voice bounces with uncontainable happiness. “Until the day after tomorrow then. Please be careful on your way home.”

                Tala gives me a half-bemused look when I come down the hallway after Gaara's left.

                “What?” I say, a little unprepared for something other than her usually icy mask. “Is something the matter?”

                “Of course not, milady.” The look from before is wiped away completely. “Should I fix you some tea before you retire?”

                I smile, warmed and content to my core without the need for herbal aid. “No, thank you Tala. I am quite alright. Good night.”

                And for the first time in almost a month, I had no nightmares. Only a beautiful dream of shimmering sands, blue skies, and ringing laughter I hoped might one day become reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally a small kernel of hope for this dense duo to realize that maybe this engagement isn't as terrible as it could be :)
> 
> Thank you so much to all who are reading this! Until next time.


	11. Shattered

               The next week is blissful. Gaara spares time for me during the day like he promised, and it’s so nice having another chance to get to know him a little better. There are a few times when I know he has more than enough work to do, but he always takes some time out of his busy schedule to break for tea or chat with me. We talk of tales, some cooler weather, and our hopes for the future. I trust him with every ounce of my being, and I was beginning to believe with my heart as well.

                It’s funny, realizing that I might really be in love with him. How maybe after all this time, he was my other half. My intended soulmate. But I tell myself not to get so worked up about it. This was no fairy tale, no magical union that would erase his trauma or my own. There were still trials to overcome and hurdles to jump in terms of us both connecting completely.

                Uncle returns and it’s easy to tell that he has mixed feelings on the progression of our relationship. But he makes no comment. If anything, he tries to tell me that if I am happy then he will be too in the long run. But I can see it in his eyes- that lingering fear that Gaara will somehow harm me or kill me. That this happiness would be fleeting and one day I would be broken or buried beneath the earth never to rise again.

                I should have been more wary myself. I should have cautioned myself more when it came to how I dealt with Gaara. But I was blinded by my faith in him and this joyful affection aching to bloom into love within my chest to think anything terrible could ever occur between us.

                Oh gods, how sorely wrong I was.

                It was an ordinary day. The weather was getting cooler, and autumn would soon be heralded without much ado here in the desert. My birthday would be coming in a little over a month, and I was nervous to spend it with Gaara now in tow. Part of me worried that he would force himself to buy my expensive or unnecessary gifts to commiserate the occasion, but I couldn’t bring it up lest he think me self-absorbed.

                Tala escorts me to the office like we always do a few times a week. She’s a little more relaxed with me now, but I wouldn’t call the woman relaxed by any means. Like my husband-to-be, there always seemed to be something heavy weighing upon her consciousness. And unless she wished to share it with me of her own accord, I left it be.

                A knock to the door of Gaara’s office yields no reply. The woman who helped monitor the comings and goings of the government officials said he was here, but I wondered if he really was. Knowing I hated to wait when he was preoccupied or pull him out of an important meeting, I opted to open the door and peek my head in before heading home.

                Gaara is there, but yet, he is not.

                The look on his sheet-white face screams of pain and strikes me straight to the heart. I hurry inside, shutting the door gently behind me, and try to coax him out of whatever nightmarish visions are ensnaring him so utterly. He’s too far deep into them and can’t hear or see me. I place the basket of home-baked treats I hoped to have us nibble on with tea and hasten to his side.

                _Slow and gentle_. I caution myself as I reach a hand to his shoulder. “Gaara? Are y-“

                It all happens so quickly, I barely had time to blink.

                 I’m suddenly lifted off the ground by some force other than gravity. There’s a whir of wind, then a painful smack of my skull against a wall. I cry out, body racked with shooting waves of pain. The world begins to fade around me.

                “Oh gods.” Gaara’s panicked breath is hot against my cheek as I dip my aching head towards the floor. The tears are streaming uncontrollably from my eyes mingling with- gods, was that blood?- escaping from my nose and mouth. “Aylin?”

                I whimper, screwing my eyes shut as the nausea rose with the debilitating pain. A murmured comment from him now, but nothing more. The silence only makes the discomfort swell. Everything ached. I wanted to die. Gods, what did he do to me?

                “Tala.” Gaara’s booming call for my guard produces her in an instant. “Hurry to the medical ward. Let them know I am bringing Aylin. Alert them of her injuries.”

                “Yes my lord.” The uncommonly calm statement is rushed as she slams the door shut behind her.

                I’m lifted into his arms not a second later. The movement from sitting straight up to reclining on my back makes the pressure and pain in my head swell. I sob loudly, so confused about what had happened even now.

                He had hit me? How? When? I hadn’t even see him move! And gods, if this had been accidental, would the time he actually poised to strike be my last?

                “Shh, Aylin.” He dips his face close to my own as he winds down the suddenly hushed hallways of the building with some speed. I know he is trying to soothe me, but I’m illogical. Incoherent. All I want is for the pain to end- for the bleeding to stop. “You will have aid soon. Do not weep. This will all be over soon.”

                I don’t believe him. I can’t. How could he possibly know that? Who could possibly end my suffering?

                He hands me over to the medical workers once he’s rushed me inside the hospital. I hazily see him standing, seafoam eyes and crimson hair the only thing of color as his skin remains void of anything but a ghost-like pallor, but I’m soon whisked away as he remains just as he was. And I’m glad. I don’t want him to see me suffer anymore.

                I beg for my uncle, Tala- anyone of familiarity- as the examination for my well-being takes place. It’s frightening, having all these strangers poking and prodding me. They ask me my name and a ridiculous amount of questions when all I want to do is sleep. I can’t sit up or stand very well. Even laying down is torturous. My head seems to be weighed down by the weight of a thousand pressing hands. I’m afraid it’s going to build up so much pressure that it will pop before much longer.

                They jab an IV into my arm and force some kind of concoction down my throat. I gag as the chalky taste mixes with the mineral bitterness of blood draining from my nose. But I swallow it nonetheless. In a short while, I’m numb, pain slowly being pulled away from my conscious. The darkness of exhaustion overtakes me.

                 There are no dreams. No nightmares. No thoughts. Just a sickly drift down into a pit of nothingness I’m afraid I’ll never surface out of.

                But I do wake, eyes squinting as the strange room around me loops in hazy movements across my vision. A beep of a machine cuts like a dagger into my throbbing skull, and my temples scream as I try to move even the slightest fraction to my left. My dry mouth opens to release an aching moan, eyes wet with unshed tears as I find myself unable to find anyway to position myself comfortably.

                “Aylin?” I crack an eye open and drift it all the way to my right to see Uncle almost falling out of a chair beside me. His bloodshot silver eyes are rimmed with swollen lids. He’s been crying, and from the looks of it, crying a lot. When his eyes moisten with tears, I have a feeling he will begin to do so again and never stop. “Thank the gods.”

                “Wh-“ My breathless, frail attempt to communicate only fuels the fear pitting my belly. “Where-”

                “Do you not remember anything?” A sudden look of concern burns across those molten metal eyes. I can only choke back a sob, mind too overwhelmed with excruciating pain to think of anything at all. “Oh, my dear. You poor, trampled rose. Perhaps it is best if we do not say anything.”

                “Tell..” I swallow hard, nauseous to the point that I could barely speak without vomiting. “Tell me.”

                He averts his gaze to the floor and crosses his bronzed arms across his chest. “Gaara attacked you when you went to visit him today. He slammed you into a wall and has given you a concussion my dear. A few more ounces of strength and he would have applied enough pressure to do irreversible damage to your skull. You are lucky, Aylin.” His voice breaks. “Very lucky.”

                I look to the ceiling, feeling a mixture of conflicting things. “Gaara?”

                “He will be keeping his distance for the time being.” The biting edge to his words has me trembling. I can see it now- see Gaara sitting in the darkness, head cradled in his hands, allowing the demon within to torment him relentlessly thanks to what he did to me. My throat clenches shut. I had to speak to him. Oh gods, I needed to tell him it was my fault, not his. “A wise decision I’m sure he’ll honor if he knows what is good for him.”

                “No! Please,” I weep, my fragile heart breaking in my chest. All these happy moments… our walks and talks… halted. Perhaps for forever. “I... want him. I-”

                “You will not see him.” Uncle's stern with his command. Almost cruelly so. He takes my hand and crushes it in both of his. “Do you understand me, Aylin? This is what I feared- what I warned you would happen. He will kill you.” He begins to weep. “And no one will be able to stop him before it happens.”

                I wail, not afraid for myself, but for Gaara. But I cannot plead with my uncle. He will not listen to me. He will not listen to anyone. And if I read into his anger correctly, he might very well put an end to our betrothal by one mean or another, even if it meant going against the council and our country to see me safe.

                They do not let me leave the hospital for five days. There was risk of hemorrhaging at the beginning within my brain from unseen blood clots, but once that silent danger passed with a breath of relief from everyone watching over me, they are forced to wait until the swelling of the tissues around my skull and of my brain have gone down significantly. I can see it in the nurses’ and doctors’ eyes when I am awake- the pity and weariness. They think I’ve signed my own death wish by getting close to Gaara. But I know they’re wrong. Everyone was wrong.

                Tala, Orthos, and Uncle take turns watching over me like a hawk. I plead with them all to bring Gaara to me, to let me explain to him that he need not hide from me, but no one seems to hear the sorrowful laments I utter. Still, I know he’s come by to visit me when I sleep. Whether it’s of their working or his own design, my chest aches with relief all the same. Even he can’t stay away despite telling Uncle he would. How else would Tolka have ended up on the table beside me had he not been by?

                I’m released with what I’m sure is not exactly a clean bill of health and told to continue my rehabilitation at home. There would be no strenuous work, and a slow- oh gods, I felt sick at how tedious the schedule they went over with me was- return to regular activities. But I can say nothing. I merely thank the doctors and medical aids with the politeness and gratitude the Lady of the Sand should exude and let my guards slowly lead me home.

                Both of them are on watch again for the next week following. One stays in the room with me as I sleep away the first few days of my return home, while the other guards. They switch much as they had the first week of my betrothal to Gaara, though there is a more tangible sense of empathy and affection for me than there had been all those months ago. It’s clear they’ve become attached to me, and I to them in turn. And the connection makes Gaara’s nonexistent place in my life a tiny bit more manageable than it would have been they had not been here.

                It’s hard to do anything but walk around once the exhaustion of injury and illness no longer tethers me to my mattress almost two weeks after returning home from the hospital. I venture a little outside the house, but when the eyes of the villagers fall on me with a look that ranges from invasive curiosity to a flood of unwanted empathy, I decide it best to stick indoors for the time being. The whole village must have talked about what Gaara did to me. And I feared that all this circulating gossip was yet another reason that kept him away.

                But I pray every night that he will come soon. The love within me swells, now frail in its bloom from the blood-soaked birth it had in this world. There was no need for added suffering. The deed was done and my body healed. All that was left was to mend this broken bond between us and heal his soul still crying for help and forgiveness.

                He comes, and gods, the joy in my chest is nothing that I’ve ever felt before. There’s a bouquet of flowers hanging limping in one of his hands while the other holds what looks a basket full of food. The jolt of shock he takes when he sees me on the other side of the door reassures me that he hadn’t expected me to be the first one to intercept him on this unexpected visit. The look on his face changes several times in the short span of time we stand frozen staring into each other’s eyes, and I can tell he’s moments away from turning back and leaving everything unresolved between us.

                The tears burn in my eyes as I throw myself into him. I’m sobbing uncontrollably as the tangible feeling of his skin meeting my own happens. My arms tighten around him, and I weep his name over and over until my throat is raw. He stands staunchly, obviously unsure of what to do, but he is soon holding me back, though so softly I know he still worries about harming me.

                “I waited,” I mumble sorrowfully against his chest. “For you. Every day in the hospital and here at home too.”

                He smooths a shaking hand over my back. “I know. Forgive me, Aylin.” I feel his whole form tremble now. “Truly. Forgive me for all the horrors I’ve enacted upon you.”

                I press my face into his sandy tunic and rub it gently against the material in silent negation. “No apologies. Please. Just promise me… that you won’t stay away any longer.”

                Silence. I can feel him wishing to say a thousand things, but unable to say anything at all. But he keeps me close and I know that means more than any words he could offer.

                A small cough from behind us. Uncle is standing in the hall, arms lightly crossed against his torso as he splits a curious glance between the pair of us. There’s a moment of embarrassment between me and the redhead no longer locked in what was sure to be a tender embrace to an onlooker, but I’m not mortified for long.

                “Took you long enough.” My uncle says. I blink, not expecting such a statement to leave his mouth. Not to Gaara, at least, after the hatred I knew he’d felt towards him for injuring me. “Come in. Aylin’s been expecting you for some time now.”

                Gaara releases a small noise of acknowledgement. “Of course. I’ve brought you all dinner.” He looks down to the basket now on the floor beside us. “Why don't we all eat together?”

                Uncle turns down the hallway, muttering that he’d go put some water to boil for tea. I watch him go, small smile tugging at my lips, before letting my attention be completely consumed by Gaara again. His seafoam eyes have been on me already, and I can’t help but be warmed from the top of my head all the way to the soles of my feet from the gentle softness of it.

                The flowers are now extended out to me, and I blink in shock at the heartfelt gift he's offering me. His face holds a small touch of blush, and I know he must have felt a little silly walking through the village with such a thing in tow. I take it from him and press it gently to my bosom, smile growing from all the beautiful buds sending their lovely floral fragrance into my nostrils.

                “Thank you.” I’m suddenly sheepish, my cheeks burning as the romantic gesture leaves me giddy. “They’re beautiful.”

                We sit and eat dinner in under an amiable atmosphere full of light-hearted conversations. Tala attempts to make herself scarce but when I beg her to stay, she moves from the wall she’s been leaning against to settle upon a stool at the table instead. There’s a polite discussion about an incoming storm sure to soak the village for days on end with strong winds and an almost torrential downpour of rain, but there’s a tangible tenseness of things unsaid between me and the redheaded man beside me that makes it difficult to talk of anything else.

                “Tala, may I borrow your strength for a moment?” Uncle inquires after finishing his portion of the meal. “I have some things on the top floor of the house that need to be rearranged for my next caravan trip.”

                The woman’s heterochromatic drift to me, then Gaara, but she ultimately stands to her feet with a small sigh. “If you say it is alright, milady.”

                “Go on.” I reassure her with a grin. “Some of those trunks are difficult to lift with only one person to rely upon.”

                A reverent dip of her head to the two of us still sitting at the table, and she’s off after my uncle. I nibble on the last few bites of the delicious meal Gaara’s brought with him, heart in my throat. I don’t know what to say. He’s silent as well, and there’s a moment of fear when I think everything will remain as it is between us.

                “Can I..” He finally speaks, and I jerk my head up to look at him. His eyes are on me, emotions now easy to read, and I know he will not stay quiet any longer. “Can I speak with you in private?”

                The tiniest of smiles lifts my lips upward. “Of course. Should we go sit in the parlor?”

                He settles down on the couch first, and I blink when he opens both of his arms to beckon me somewhere other than the couch cushion beside him. _Come to me_. The look on his face, hungry for physical contact, screams this unspoken plea.

                 I have no qualms in appeasing him.

                Gaara cradles me close, face buried in the cascading tendrils of my hair as he takes it down out of the loose side bun I usually sport inside the house. His hands smooth across my back, over my shoulders, soft in their consoling caresses. I close my eyes and breathe deeply, calmed for the first time in over a week by his touch.

                “Please, don’t let me harm you again.” The broken comment hits me straight to the heart. His warm breath quickens against my scalp; the man’s on the verge of tears. “If you see me in such a state again, stay away. You were lucky this time. I-“ His hold tightens slightly. “I am a horrible, horrible man. Making you a promise to protect you from harm when I am the one you need to be protected from.”

                “Shh, Gaara.” I soothe him softly as he breaks down. “Don’t fret. Please. You could never harm me. Not of your own accord. So I am not afraid, hm? Did you see me pull away once from you in the span of time this has happened?”

                A strangled sound of disbelief. “Why? Why are you not afraid of me?”

                “Because,” I pull away, tears glistening in my eyes as I look upon his broken expression. I lift a hand to his cheek and smooth my fingers over the small rivulets of tears that have escaped from his own. “I know you are no monster. Stop pretending you are that same person the past holds against you. This heart inside of you is beautiful. So patient, so kind. Empathetic for those who suffer and filled with a desire to protect everyone- even those who may not return such a sentiment. That is the man you are- the essence of your soul within.”

                His face falls. “But there is a demon within me as well.”

                “Not of your own accord.” I remind him just as softly. “So it is foolish to judge you as if it had been.”

                A small chuckle. “He finds you amusing. This is a first.”

                “I suppose myself honored, then.” I smile, not at all fazed by the news. “Seeing as we all will be spending much of our time together in the future.”

                His eyes widen. “You still wish to go through with the betrothal?”

                “Is sitting here with you not proof enough?” I look into his fearful face and feel my stomach plummet. “Why? Have you done something to end it?”

                A small shake of his head. “No. For I believe,” He lifts a hand, but the fingers slowly retract to his palm instead of extending to my face. He takes a deep breath and finally musters the courage to brush one of the wayward locks off the side of my cheek and behind my ear. “That this is something that I wish to cherish deeply.”

                We embrace again, this one even more intimate than the first. Gaara is not as hesitant to touch me now, his hands nervous but curious, and I sigh as the brush of his fingers or the heat of his palms travels beneath my gown and against my spine. My hands anchor me to him, and all I want to do is sit here with him like this for all of eternity.

                Too bad there were enough reminders that such a thing could not exist at this moment.

                “Milady? Tala? I knocked but-” Orthos stumbles into view and pauses as he catches sight of us on the couch. A wide-eyed stare passes from him to us, and us to him, but he blinks in rapid succession and the shock dissolves from his expression. “Forgive me, my lord. My lady.” He dips his head before quickly averting his eyes to look down the hallway. “I’ll, uh, leave you be.”

                 My whole face is burning as he walks away without a second glance to us. Gaara’s just as mortified. His whole face is red from his cheeks all the way to the tips of his ears and down to his throat.

                His adam’s apple swims as he gulps. “I should take my leave unless we want Orthos or your uncle watching us like a hawk.”

                “Good idea.” I agree with a hesitant chuckle.

                We stand by the doorway now, eyes on each other as our bodies now remain a modest few inches away from each other. “Well,” I drawl, smiling up at him. A tiny smile is on his own features, a rare treat I had only experienced once or twice before. My whole being warms like it has been caressed by a golden ray of sunlight. “I suppose I’ll see you soon.”

                “Once the storm is over, I’ll come take you on an outing.” His seafoam eyes are tenderly endearing. “So stay safe indoors and wait patiently for my return.”  

                I beam a cheery smile. “Really?”

                “Would I lie to you?” He looks slightly amused by my joyful inquiry. “Good evening, Aylin.” The softened way he speaks my name makes my whole system tremble with delight. “I wish you every pleasant thing until I can see you again and give them to you myself.”

                “Good evening, Gaara.” The smile on my face threatens to crack it in two. “I’ll miss you.”

                A small caress of his hand against my cheek that lasts only a moment. “Not as much as I will you.”

                A chuckle of amusement comes from the hallway behind me after Gaara’s left. Orthos and Tala are both there, smirking like they’ve just witnessed the most amusing thing possible. I roll my eyes, cheeks warm from a mixture of giddiness and embarrassment, and try not to pout. I know their expressions are thanks to the progression of our romantic relationship. Not that I can blame them for it; no one ever expected such a thing to be possible.

                “Not a word.” I point a finger at them both. “Am I clear?”

                “Clear as crystal, milady.” Orthos’ smirk lifts. “Hm, Tala?”

                She turns to leave out the door beside me with a scoff. A hand rests on my head before that happens, and I turn to give her a confused look. “As long as my lord and lady are happy,” Her hand is now retracted. “I will keep my silence on the matter forever.”

                I can’t restrain hugging her. “Thank you, Tala.” I squeeze her in my arms. “You are a wonderful, beautiful person.”

                She fidgets, unable to complete the gesture. When I release her, I see her usually stoic face now burning with embarrassment. Orthos laughs, obviously not expecting it as much as I had, and his humorous reaction sends her expression flattening back to its usual impenetrable cool.

                “You flatter me, milady.” Her hand turns the knob with more energy than necessary. “But thank you. I…” She falters for a moment. “I am glad you think well of me.”

                “I think you’ve proven me wrong more times than I thought possible, milady.” Orthos lifts himself off the wall and smiles. “To love our lord and befriend Tala who wishes to be friends with no one… you are a spectacular specimen of woman indeed.”

                “One whose heart is worth the world’s weight in precious jewels.” Uncle comes into view from the stairwell leading to the top floor. His silver eyes hold a light I haven’t seen in almost a year now. Mine soon fill with tears to see him finally returning to his normal self. “For what other heart cannot help but love everyone and everything it comes into contact with?”

                “Only because I have seen the sufferings of this world and wish to do my part to end it.” I confess softly. “If I can ease the weight of someone’s burdens, why should I not? Why allow someone to suffer needlessly when I can be there to console them- to show them that they are not alone on this planet?”

                “Because we are selfish creatures who usually think only of ourselves.” Orthos’ wise retort reminds me that he is a great thinker despite his joking façade. “So to see someone who puts themselves last is a beautiful and rare thing.”

                I laugh nervously. “Such a thing is sure to be my strength as well as my weakness.”

                “Only a strength, milady.” He reassures me gently. “Think of it only as a strength.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And a dark shadow falls and is lifted from this couple's path together. The strength to believe in someone is powerful. As is forgiveness when they fail you. But will that be enough to protect Aylin from this point onward? Or will deepening her relationship with Gaara only make them realize things they wished to forget?
> 
> A bittersweet week for me... Saying goodbye never gets easier. I think the older we get the harder it becomes. I hope all of you know how appreciated you are in life. It means so much to me that you choose to read this story week after week. Until next time!


	12. Everlasting

               The storm comes much as everyone anticipated. As much as my soul would have soared in delight for such an element of nature, it did not now. Not when it prolonged my next meeting with Gaara. I lay on the couch in the sitting room, languid sighs escaping my lips more times than not as memories of our last encounter replay endlessly within my mind.

                _I love you_. How badly I now ached to say such words to him. _Like the tale of the maiden transformed into a bird, I will sing of my everlasting bond to you until night falls and I can utter such words without falter._

And when he comes, the moment of reunion feels like is straight out of a fairy tale. I’ve dressed in the mint gown Zaphir’s created with a cream colored headscarf tucked gently over my cautiously tended to locks, and I look beautiful. I feel beautiful. There’s a rosy glow to my cheeks that speaks of love and life brimming within me, and it cannot be suppressed. Nor do I want it to be.

                He’s dressed the same as ever, but I can tell by the animated gleam in his eyes that he’s anticipated this as badly as I have. It’s late into the afternoon, almost evening, and we set out across the village lost in our own little world. He seems to have a destination in mind, but whenever I attempt to ask him where we are going, his only reply is for me to be patient. After my third time asking, I’m sure he knows patient is the only thing I can't be.

                We exit the village. The guards dip their heads as we pass through the narrow gap between the two sections of the rock ledge that encircled the place we both called home and walk out into the expanse of sand that stretched endlessly towards the horizon. Gaara plucks the scarf from my head when we have ambled a good enough distance away to be but mere specks to the guards, and I squeak in surprise as he undoes the ribbon in my hair as well.

                “Be free.” He commands me, seafoam eyes dancing with the last orange rays of sun as it begins its descent across the sky. “Go on. I will sit and keep my eyes on you from here.”

                I leave my boots with him as well, giggling as my toes dig into the warm sand and sink a little below its surface. He goads me on with a sweep of his hand, obviously intent on just watching, and I take off, laughing with glee as my legs break across the sand. After sitting cooped up in a house for so long, I itched to run. To jump and dance. To do anything that required a significant amount of energy. I know not to overdo it- still in my period of recovery from the head trauma not yet cleared from my health- but it’s a wonderful experience all the same.

                A caress of sand lifts to my cheek when I pause to catch my breath. I dip my head with a sheepish smile as the tender touch registers. There was no doubt in my mind who had been behind this tender gesture: Gaara. The memories of the last time he had unknowingly done such a thing flits across my mind, and I’m so overwhelmed with loving gratitude for him that I allow the sand to smooth across me in any so manner he desired.

                That was, however, until he sends a playful blast to whip at my gown.

                “Gaara!” I shriek, hands moving to clamp the material of my dress back down as it was intended to settle. An amused laugh echoes from where he sits a few yards away, and the sand instead moves to dance in painted images around me: of a bird, a fox, and lastly, a flower. I smile, eyes now glued to him, and he lifts a hand to call me back.

                “You sly man, you.” I make a face after settling in the sand beside him. The sun is just now at the dip in the horizon and sends one last ripple of glow over the desert as a final caress in promise to return when dawn broke. “Had I known you would treat me in such a manner, I would have denied your request for an outing at once.”

                We share a small chuckle, knowing it had been a humorous way for him to tease me. He opens his arms again, and I scurry across the sand to sit just before him. I’m cradled against his chest not a moment later and the feeling of his embrace fills me with an unshakable sense of peace and happiness. My hair and face touched so lovingly and gentle that I’m utterly defenseless to him within seconds. He murmurs a question to see if I am content, and all I can do is give a small hum of unfaltering agreement a moment later.

                The love within me surges to the point that I am almost unable to restrain myself from speaking it endlessly to him. But I’m nervous. Afraid to lay my heart bare and have it exposed for the tender wreck it was.

                Still, I take courage in my feelings and a little faith in him too. “Gaara?”

                “What is it?”

                “I-“ My mind is blank, and I hastily revert to my only way of communicating deep things with him. “I want to tell you a tale.”

                He adjusts himself a little more comfortably against the sand, but his embrace on me does not lessen a fraction. “Go on. I'm listening.”

                “Once upon a time,” I hesitate at first, fear overwhelming courage as the words blurred. “There was a man who was made into a monster by a spiteful genie. Alone he lived in a cave full of wonders, bitter, volatile, and unaccustomed to contact with anyone or anything. The villagers nearby feared him and made several attempts to kill him, but none ever succeeded. So instead they left him be, skirting hundreds of yards around his home to never disturb him again.

                “But one night a terrible sandstorm swept a passing group of travelers from distant lands off course, and not knowing the monster’s tale, they sought refuge in his cave. The monster who never experienced love nor empathy before in his life kills many of the band, leaving only a father and his daughter alive.

                “’Please, oh holy one, spare my daughter and take me instead.’ The father, loving his child more than himself, begs for her safety to be placed above his own. ‘Do what you will to me, but please, vow to me that you will let her go.’

                “’Very well.’ Replies the monster with some reluctance. And so the father is killed, but with the monster’s magic, sealed inside the lamp amongst the treasures within the cave of wonders, and the girl is left to live.

                “’I will not leave my father to suffer here alone.’ The girl, virtuous and filial as she was, stands before the monster without flinching. ‘Allow me to keep you company for one year and one night. I will tell you a tale, tend to your needs, and keep you warm through the long stretch of night. All I ask in return is that you give the lamp holding my father’s essence back to me.’

                “He agrees to her plan, a little despite himself, and the girl does not break her vow. Not even once. But when evening falls and he pretends to sleep with her curled against him, he hears her weep for her father, for her caravan, and soon, even for him as their bond deepens. The monster then begins to feel something. A feeling that had nothing to do with him and everything to do with her.

                “The girl is showered with gifts and treated to magical feasts. But her eyes remain void of light, her spirit unmoved by the monster’s material show of his enjoyment to her company. It is only when he speaks kindly to her- sees into her soul and offers words he knows she is worthy of and no one else- that the girl warms and feels the burden placed upon her shoulders a little more manageable.

                “And so the two of them become bonded, so much so that love begins to blossom between them. But the monster fears for her and keeps away when her touches make him ache for things a monster should not. The girl is patient, her heart belonging completely to him, and prays each night in place of her tears that her father and the monster too will be freed from the unjust fates placed upon them.

                “The year and one day passes, and the monster, with a heavy heart, knows he must honor the promise he made to her all that time ago. She takes the lamp holding her father’s sleeping spirit and looks upon the monster. ‘Please do not make me go.’ She cries, heart breaking as she sees the monster all alone among his heaping pile of treasures, sure to revert back into the cruel mindless menace he once had been. ‘Allow me to extend my stay with you for another year and a day.’

                “’I will make you no more promises.’ The monster’s woeful answer hurts them both. ‘For you belong in the world outside this cave, and I do not.’ And he uses his magic to push her out of the cave, sealing it away from her view forever lest she attempt to find him again.

                “But the girl is resolute, heart brimming with love, and moves to wake her father’s sleeping spirit for guidance. The lamp he was stored in, however, was no ordinary lamp. For the selfless act of love he offered in behalf of his daughter, his soul has been granted the power of a genie.

                “‘Speak Daughter, and gain your three wishes.’ He commands her upon making his miraculous appearance in smoke and glitter. ‘Anything you wish can and will be yours.’

                “’Take me back to the cave where the monster lives and unseal his magic barring me from him.’ She states her first wish without fear. And with a poof, her father turned genie brings her back to the mouth of the cave where a heart-wrenching, wordless lament pours out.

                “The girl enters and the monster’s wails come to a sudden halt. “Why have you returned?’ He cries, so amazed that she is back when he forced her away for eternity. ‘I have come because I love you and wished for you to know. So you need not live in loneliness anymore. No longer will I stay one year and one day. If you will have me, I will stay for all of eternity.’

                “’But I am a monster.’ The creature confesses with obvious grief. ‘You cannot love me in such a state.’ ‘

                “’Monster you may be now, but monster you were not meant to be always.’ Her wisdom sees within him- sees the soul of a man unjustly pitted to such a fate. ‘Father, for my second wish, turn the monster back to man. Let him no longer feel the weight of a fate not meant for him to carry.’ And with a poof of smoke and glitter, it is done.

                “The monster returned to man moves to embrace his woman, hands holding and caressing her for the first time. They move to kiss, speaking endless vows of love to one another, and it is clear a union between them is soon to occur. ‘You have one wish remaining, Daughter.’ Her father-genie speaks kindly as the man holds her against his side, eyes burning with zealous love and passion for her. ‘What shall it be? Wealth? A long, prosperous life? A kingdom to rule upon? Ask and it shall be granted to you.’

                “’I wish for you to remain guardian over this place, so no man may ever feel the wrath of the genie who once inhabited this cave. May your just reasoning bless the weary traveler who stumbles in here, and your generosity shower the worthy with any amount of treasures you desire. For here you will be safe, Father, and honoring your esteemed position as a genie.’ And so her father remained and did as she asked without qualm.

                “The girl and her lover married, and their fated union sired many children who grew to know nothing but love and virtue. And they came to rule in those parts, showing mercy and hospitality to friend and foe alike. And their tale was told for all of time, so that their selfless love for one another would never be forgotten.”

                  Gaara is quiet for some time. I know he understand that this tale is a tale on the surface, but something else- something I was unable to tell him any other way. I look up to the stars above and find myself calmed. Even if he did not love me now there was hope that one day, even if it was not one day soon, he would.

                He pulls away from me, and I feel my heart being torn asunder. But when he moves to press a long, adoring kiss to my brow, it re-pieces itself in an instant and takes flight. The tears brim my eyes. He loved me. Without speaking a single word, I knew it to be true.

                “My dear Scheherazade.” He murmurs against my skin. “How can you look into the face of death every evening and still offer me tales that ensnare me mind, body, and soul? For a thousand and one nights I would lay captive beside you, waiting for evening to fall yet again so I could hear your voice beckoning me to think, to dream, to believe in the impossible.”

                “And I will remain beside you for forever and a day.” I whisper, shivering as his lips press a kiss to the tip of my nose now, then to each cheekbone, and lastly my lips. “I love you, Gaara. Truly, utterly love you for the man you are.”

                He presses his forehead against my own and sighs deeply. Our eyes are locked, and like the lovers in the tale, I knew we would know this feeling for as long as time spanned. “And I love you, Aylin. More than mere words could ever express. More than living one lifetime alongside you could ever show.”

                Another kiss, this one more deep than the first. My heart is overflowing with such gratefulness, joy, and peace, it felt as if I too had somehow wound up in a fairy tale now reaching its joyful ending. But this tale between us was just now beginning. And I could barely anticipate all the wonderful things yet to come.

                “I have something for you.” He’s clasped both of my hands in his a moment before, but now moves to pull a slim metal band from a pocket on the inner layer of his vest. My eyes burn with shocked tears as he extends my right ring finger and places the ring upon it so I can see the jewel-crusted overlay along the top side twinkling under the star-lit sky above us. “Will you accept it? This token of my love?”

                “Yes.” I throw my arms around him, blubbering like a fool. “Thank you, Gaara. I’ll cherish it.”

                “And I will cherish you in turn.” He murmurs happily against my ear. “It’s only fair.”

                I pull away with a laugh and wipe away my happy tears. He offers me a small smile, but the kind look slowly returns to his usually expressionless visage. There’s a slow sweep of his eyes over me, with my hair wild and face probably glowing as bright as any star, but he soon moves to take both of my hands in his again.

                “I have some news to share with you.” He says evenly. I give him a reassuring smile, knowing that if he had had bad news, he would not have prolonged it this long. “The Hokage has asked to meet with me, so I will be making a trip down to Konoha in a few days. While I would opt to bring you with me and keep you close, since we are not yet wed, the idea to travel together is frowned upon by the council for various reasons of modesty. I cannot tell you how long I will be away, but know this: when I return, I will set a date for our wedding so we need not leave this arrangement as it is forever.”

                My smile grows more tender with his confession. “Good. For I do not think I could wait another three months just being betrothed to you.”

                “I will miss you every day I am gone.” He pulls me close again, rocking me softly in his hold as his lips press another kiss to my brow. “And will think of you all hours of the day.”

                “All hours?” I quip, laughing softly. “As much as I'm personally warmed to here you admit such a thing, I think you shouldn't tell anyone else. Heavens forbid they think you are failing in your duties as a Kazekage in having your attention solely fixated on me.”

                His bemused chuckle rumbles against my ear. “I will try my best to keep such thoughts to myself. But I find it increasingly hard not to speak of my love for you to anyone within earshot.”

                We sit awhile longer in the sand embracing in ways that spoke volumes without having to utter a single syllable. Then Gaara, modest and caring as he was, murmurs that it is time for me to return back to my uncle. I fix my hair, wrap the headscarf around my shoulders, and shuck the boots back on my feet. And with one last look to the night sky stretching endlessly in every direction around us, I place my hand in Gaara’s and let him walk me home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the two finally realize how much they mean to each other. I always pegged Gaara as the sentimental type so his reactions to Aylin's confession really just capture his belief that he's the luckiest man possible to have such a love offered so heartfelt to him (especially considering his past poor lad). And we all know if he ever found someone he really cherished he'd be spouting cheesy lines to them without the slightest tinge of embarrassment :) But are happy endings in a life fraught with reality really possible? Or are loves as deep and true as tales always conjure the ones put through the most trials? Stay tuned to find out!
> 
> Thank you again as always to everyone is reading. Enjoy your weekend! See you next time.


	13. Repeat

                “I’m sorry, my dear.” Uncle laments as the caravan is loaded. His silver eyes gleam with remorse, and it’s hard not to react to his bone-deep apology with a saddened look of my own. “To make you come with us again. But-“

                “This is a tricky transaction, and you need all the help you can get. Do not fret, Uncle.” I offer him a tiny smile in reassurance. “I am more than happy to offer my services to you one last time.”

                He slumps over in relief. The apologies had come almost non-stop since his sudden meeting with a councilor who helped oversee the caravan from a governmental perspective. A change in monetary values between the countries meant recalculating wares bought and sold, making it a hassle for the new bookkeeper Uncle had been training to take my place these last few months. And knowing he had no other option, he had begged me, and the decision to travel again had been sealed.

                “Milady.” I turn to see Orthos and Tala dipping in the sand beside me. The man lifts his head with a small smile. “Is there anything we can do for you before our departure?”

                I make a face. “I should be asking you that question. It isn’t right to make you come on this trip alongside me and be gone from your routine lives for six whole weeks.”

                “We have no qualms in coming.” Tala reassures me with her usual blank expression. “It is our job to guard you. Where you go, so shall we. Besides, would you not wish Lord Kazekage to be at ease knowing you were protected by us?”

                 My pout grows. “Yes, but-“

                “No buts, milady. Tala is right.” Orthos is all smiles. “Especially since he was not informed of your sudden departure before his trip abroad.”

                “Don’t make it sound like I was trying to sneak this under his nose.” I cross my arms and slump. “He’s sure to be angry, isn’t he?”

                “Angry no, worried yes.” Tala informs me levelly. “He’s already been relayed the news, milady. Had some harsh words with me, but he knows you must do what you can to help your uncle.”

                A breath of relief. “Oh. Well, thank you Tala. For doing so when you weren’t asked to.”

                “She’s glad to be of service.” Orthos winks at the woman, only to get a shudder of disgust in return. His laugh alerts us both that he’s not at all fazed. “We both are.”

                The caravan soon sets off, and with a heavy heart, I take one last look at the village behind us and pray that we will be back safely before much longer. Odd, how the usual event of leaving now filled my soul with sadness. A year ago such a thing would have been impossible, but now, I couldn't help but think my life belonged inside those rock walls alongside Gaara. But I know this trip will be my last. And one day soon, the dreams I now saw for my future tethered in that place would be made reality.

                There’s a large band of people going down to this less than friendly land with us. The guards have been increased since my betrothal to Gaara, and with Tala and Orthos also in attendance, they number close to a dozen now. My guards keep their distance, knowing their duty lays with me and not the other shinobis, but I can’t help but feel a little nervous with the almost feral glint I've noticed in these shinobis’ eyes. Still, they do their job and stay away from the caravan of regular civilians who probably feared their power as much as I did.

                Orthos speaks kindly to me and Tala in turn, telling funny tales about his children or Zaphir to keep us occupied with something other than the dreary amount of travel still left before us. It would take us over a week to reach the intended city where the trade would occur, doubly that long to actually transact any wares going from us to them and from them to us. Then and only then would the long return home occur. Still, it is autumn and the weather fair, so I hope that perhaps we will shorten our trip enough to not stay the entire span of five weeks Uncle usually allotted to such an expedition.

                “Here.” I see Tala extending something to me one evening when we have sat huddled in our close-knit group of three for dinner. I take the silver chain with a sidelong look of confusion that makes her snort. “For your ring. I do not think you would wish to make such a statement about your title while we are in a land that still does not think highly of your betrothed.”

                “Oh.” I blink, looking down at the precious treasure still present on my finger. It had been a source of comfort for me in the time that Gaara had been away. He had taken Tolka with him on this trip, knowing that I wished for him to be safe more than anything else in the times we had to be separated long distances. His siblings had watch the interaction the morning of their departure with blank expressions, and I was afraid that they may never think kindly of me, even with my genuine love and affection for their brother. “Thank you, Tala.”

                “And when we return, you may wear it upon your finger again with all the pride and love you have for Lord Kazekage.” Orthos grins. “For I think we will soon be seeing your betrothal moved to marriage, hm?”

                My cheeks burn. “Yes.” I’m sheepish to admit the news myself. “Gaara has promised to set a date upon his return home. So I am sure by the time we too arrive back in Sunagakure that it will not be much longer.”

                Orthos laughs. “My poor Zaphir will have her hands full when that time comes. But I am sure you both will be too overjoyed with having your lives finally unified in matrimony to care what you will be wearing or who all will be in attendance.”

                I run a hand nervously through my hair. "Is it really that obvious?"

                “Yes.” They both reply in unison.

                I place the ring on the cool silver chain and hang it around my neck so it falls beneath my gown. It lays warm against my heart, and the feeling of it close to my skin is far better than when it had merely been on my finger. Every evening I pull it out, whisper how much I loved him, and fall asleep thinking of all the memories the two of us had made and the ones we had yet to make.

                There’s a lovely section of vales intersected by streams that rise with fog when morning broke. We stop there for a day to let our weary horses eat and drink to their content while we too took some time to revitalize ourselves. My birthday had passed right before we left on this trip, and I couldn’t help but feel that this eighteenth year of my life would be the best one out of any I had yet to live. For it was the first year of love and light stretching on into eternity. And no one nor nothing could pull it away from me.

                It’s late one evening nearing the end of our journey and I’m having trouble sleeping. The smell of smoke keeps getting wafted strongly into my tent, and the memories of the outpost exploding in flames seem to jar my thoughts. Knowing it was best not to force myself to sleep and wake the whole camp now almost thirty strong with my nightmare-induced panic, I slip out of my tent and out into the silence of the quiet world just outside.

                “Milady?” Orthos and Tala have stationed themselves outside of my tent every evening, legs crossed and backs straight as they remain on watch all hours of the night. I’m afraid to look them both in the eye and see their exhaustion. Uncle lets them sleep when he is awake a short time before dawn, but it’s difficult to swallow knowing that they willingly sacrificed so much for my well-being without qualm.

                “Privy.” I gesture to the forest beyond. I shake my head when Tala attempts to follow behind me. “Stay. I won’t be long.”

                I amble through the dewy grass down to the stream and look upon the darkened valley rippling in its peaks and low levels all across the landscape around us. It’s a beautiful country, if not wild. The few people we’d encountered on our journey within were not any different.

                A shiver overtakes me as I think of this place, and for the life of me, I can’t understand why.

                It’s only when the blast of flames explodes into the air and sends violent tremors beneath my feet that it makes sense.

                My eyes watch the scene of our camp site being engulfed in high-rising flames and billowing plumes of dark, uncanny smoke. And I’m frozen, lost in a world now almost a decade passed.

                Uncle.                                                                                                           

                Tala.

                Orthos.

                I force my feet to move, but it’s all for naught. A shadow falls across me, and I scream as a glinting metal dagger is jabbed into the soft tissue of my neck.

               The world goes suddenly black.

**

                Ambushed.

                Kidnapped.

                Dead. Soon to be dead.

                It had all been staged. All of it. Our trip, my addition to it, and the horrendous accident of a fire that was no accident.

                I hear the rogues talk about it when they think me knocked out from the ugly beatings they give me. They taunt me, burn me, use their jutsus to do horrible, horrible things to my body until I’m bleeding or losing control of my stomach, bladder, or sometimes even both. They snatch the ring from around my neck and toss it between themselves, mocking me for having a token of his love upon me. I can’t do anything but lay on the ground cold, broken, and barely tethered to this existence any longer.

                They do this to get back at Gaara. To provoke him into taking action against this country already on the fritz with our own for want of their own gain. Sometimes they jerk one of my hands out and try to choose a finger to hack off and send to him so that he appeases their demands. But they do not do so. Not yet. I think they are giving him time to see to the ransom before they stoop to using such a tactic.

                I’m afraid I’ll be dead before that point and my lifeless corpse will be sent to him instead. They give me nothing to eat. Barely any water to drink. It’s been days, and I can’t hold on for much longer without either. But I force myself not to think of it-  not to dwell on the misery, torture, and mocking tirades they enact upon me. Every moment I think of Uncle, Tala, Orthos, and Gaara, praying that somehow one of them would find me. That we would all survive this ordeal together.

                My mind is so numb. I do not think so it's possible to keep the terror at bay when the ninjas return to beat me again. Instead I see Gaara’s face, hear his voice, and attempt to remember what his gentle caress once felt like. But it’s all fading, just like the life force within me. And I’m afraid. Afraid to move onto that next realm of existence when there was so much left in this one I had yet to experience.

                It’s early in the morning. Very early. The rogue shinobi have gotten food and alcohol from whomever has been giving them these missions and most are slumped over in a drunken coma or the like. I’m barely awake myself, unable to sleep for fear that I will never wake up again. My mouth is so painfully dry just moving it a fraction chafes my cheeks or lips and sends them bleeding. Not to mention the bruises swelling my face make it difficult to move any of the muscles there as it was. Another half-day of dehydration and starvation and it would be over. The evil won and my life done.

                A soft whisper of noise lingers against my ear, grating together just like sand and wind moving in unison. My dry eyes can produce no tears. I think it a figment of my crazed mind hours before death, but as the sound begins to swell all around my body, I realize it is no dream nor death-induced vision.

                His name echoes endlessly in my head.

                  _Gaara._

                Oh gods. He had come. He had finally come to rescue me from this hell.

                The sand explodes all around me, creating a barrier as the broken building we’ve been taken refuge in shakes violently. There are screams, a loud roar, and the noise of painful death happening all around me. But I can’t move. Can’t get to safety. All I can do is reach a finger painfully slow to the sand enveloping me and hope Gaara can feel how terribly close I am to death at this very moment.

                The sand lifts and holds me when I cannot do anything but limply allow it the power to coerce my body to move. Everything screams with unbearable torture just below the surface, but I don't have the strength to cry out in pain. My eyes can barely open, and the breath shaking from my battered lungs is so shallow I’m afraid that it will soon be my last gasp of air.

                _Hurry_. I call to Gaara, holding onto one last morsel of strength, one last ounce of willpower that would fade too soon if help did not actually reach me. _Save me._

The sand cradles me as it makes its departure from the room and to the world beyond. I can hear distorted waves of noise in my ears from just outside this protective wall encompassing me, and it’s hard to tell if the fight is over and if so, who has won. But as Gaara’s sand remains as it had, I know he would not have lifted me to safety had the villains not eradicated and the threat eliminated completely.

                There’s a quiver and the sand begins to lose its power holding me in a protective cocoon. But I do not fall. For Gaara's arms come to cradle me close.

                “Water, someone.” He begs, slowly sinking to his knees with me in his arms. I can feel his hands tighten their grip on me, and soon make out Tala’s voice breaking with a strangled sound of disbelief on my other side. “Hurry!”

                “Aylin.” Tala weeps, her hand trembling violently on my shoulder. “Do not die. Please.”

                A slurred string of curses. Kankuro’s voice. He had been here too? “Don’t let us be too late. Gods, why her? Why this?”

                “Here.” Temari’s present too. “If she’s going to make it, force this down her throat.”

                A guzzled drink hastily taken by Gaara. I feel his mouth against my own, forcing a hydrating stream of water laced with some sort of sugary substance. _More_. I can only tremble as the gulp slips down my chafed throat. _I am as dry as the desert._

Another drink passed from his mouth to mine. Then another. And another. I swallow so slowly despite being ravenously parched. I could consume a whole ravine and still not feel myself anything but dehydrated. It was a bad sign. Terrible, even. One that could possibly keep me from being able to survive this tragedy.

                “Live.” Gaara seems to sense my wavering consciousness and begs for my spirit to linger. “Please, Aylin. Live.”

                But I’m drifting away, darkness too strong to fight.

                  _Forgive me_. I’m wailing within, as he tries to force another drink down my throat to no avail. _But I too weak to fight._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the true motive behind their betrothal finally begins to emerge. Poor, poor Aylin. Poor Gaara. Watching the person you love suffer is never easy. How will this affect their relationship? Will there even be a relationship to sustain now that this has happened? Wait and see!


	14. Battered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small warning: there is a little bit of language/crudeness towards the end of this chapter. Other than that, I hope you all enjoy this newest installment! Thank you like always to everyone who is reading, commenting and/or leaving kudos. Until next time!

Strange visions. I don’t know where they come from, if they are real, things to come, or things never to appear. All I do is watch. Watch like a frozen spectator whose eyes remain open for all of time and let the stream of these events pass me by. It’s easy, just watching. Listening. Never having to actually partake in any of it.

                “- consciousness will be regained soon.” The five distorted words echo inside my empty head. My body is tethered heavily to the world beneath me, almost frozen as I remain unable to do anything but listen. I know this voice. Cold, but not icy. Tala. “What will you do?”

                I can feel more now: pain, cool, then warmth. A nice, radiating warmth enveloping my right hand while my other pools its heat against my stomach. I wish it could devour me whole. But I can’t beg it to change nor do anything as my strength remains nonexistent.

                “Leave her be.” My chest aches. Oh gods, Gaara. He was here. I was alive, but barely so even now. “And pray that she will live a life full of happiness far away from this hell I’ve tethered her to.”

                A disconcerted grunt from Tala. “Lord Kazekage, please reconsider. Do not squander my lady’s love all for the sake of appeasing your guilt. It is one you will never feel again if she-“

                “Love has no place in running a country.” His quiet retort holds a steely edge. “So I will hear no more on the subject as long as I remain Kazekage. Nor will I tolerate hearing you speak as you wish. Do not think I have forgiven you for putting Aylin in this situation. You have failed in your mission. You and Orthos both. And I have yet to choose what your punishment will be.”

                “I’m not afraid of your judgment.” Tala stands resolute. She had always been the stalwart type, but I feared she was only fueling my betrothed’s vengeful flames to see my well-being rectified by his own hands. “Not for my own sake. You only harm my lady and yourself farther by acting as you are. Do you not think she has been put through enough harm?”

                I feel his hands tighten slightly over my own. “I do. And that is the reason I am breaking this betrothal and setting her free at long last.” A moment of tense silence follows. “Leave us be.” Gaara’s weary command lands like a boulder on top of my chest. “And tell Orthos to go home as well. He’s sustained injuries that need time and patient rest to heal.”

                A forced sound of agreement but nothing more as the door is slammed unceremoniously behind her.

                A descending sigh falls from my beloved’s lips. “Now she too scorns me. I am making an enemy out of everyone. Even you, Aylin.” He lifts my hand to press a kiss to my knuckles. “You will not understand why I do what I do when you awaken, but please, know I do it all for your sake. Not my own. And one day, I know you will forgive me. You have always forgiven me.” He trembles, broken by grief. “I have been unworthy of you from the very beginning. Your love is one I have always known would be wasted on a monster like me.”

                How badly I wish to soothe him. To tell him he was worthy. Oh gods, this man was worthy of every beautiful thing this world had to offer.

                “Goodbye.” His farewell is broken by what sounds like a barely suppressed choke of grief. “This cage you have been forced into now lays open. Fly away, Aylin. Fly far away from me and never look back.”

                _Please, no_. I can feel the grief rushing over my system, but it remains locked just below my barely conscious form. _If you love me, do not let me go._

But as the darkness begins to wash over me again, I know there is nothing I can do to make him stay. He would be lost in shadows again. Forever alone. Forever waiting, patiently waiting, for this life to show him freedom from the hell he’s been shackled to.

*

                The next time I wake, it is to Tala and Orthos’ patient stares. A cry overtakes them both as they scramble to kneel on either side of the bed, murmurs of my name escaping their lips as they watch me slowly drift my pulsating vision from one edge of the sunlit room to another. I shudder, my shallow breath hitching in my throat, and feel as though the weight of a million sins lays upon my body.

                 It’s so easy to see it now. The terror. The cruel beatings. The feeling of my body on the cusp between life and death.

                “Shh.” Tala, oddly tender, is the first to console me. “Please, milady. Do not weep. You are safe.”

                I screw my eyes shut, but the tears will not end. That cruel event might be over, but the cruelest of all was still to be dealt to me. Gaara gone. The betrothal broken. Our love lost, drowned in blood and tears, never to be revitalized again. He would not have me. He would have no one if this was the fate his wife would forever be tethered to.

                “I..” Gods, I sound so weak. Even weaker than a baby songbird. “Gaara. Here.”

                A shared look between my guards. “Forgive us, milady.” Orthos dips his head in shame after minutes of painful silence. “But we must break some unfortunate news to you. Lord Kazekage regrets to inform you that the betrothal has been nullified. You two will no longer be wed.”

                The wails erupt from within me.

                Lost.

                He was lost to me forever.

                Neither Tala nor Orthos moves to console me. They kneel as they had been, heads hung low, and listen to me cry for the heart now torn asunder within my chest. Even greater than the weight of pain and illness in my body, this wound would be one that would remain open and festering for as long as I lived.

                It takes a while for me to calm. When one breathless set of wails end, another one sets to begin as a vision of Gaara appears. Cruel, cruel fate. If you had intended for us never to be unified, why do this? Why make us all suffer endlessly to no end?

                My lifeless eyes drift to the wall. I had lost him. Lost everything. “The caravan?”

                “Many injured, but thankfully no one dead.” Orthos says softly. “Your uncle… Nobu, he was..”

                “Burned and blinded in one eye, milady.” Tala finds the strength to complete the horrible news when the man across from her cannot. My throat clenches. Uncle too was marred? The caravan was done for. Without him there to lead it, it would be taken by the government directly and outfitted with more fitting caretakers. The bile rises. Had that been their plan all this time? “He is afraid to see you in fear that his disfigurement will…will make you grieve even more than you already must.”

                A small whimper falls from my lips, but nothing more. Everyone lost. No salvation in sight. Nothing could be crueler.

                “And you?” I murmur, heart now frozen within my chest to keep it from being wounded any deeper. “Will you both leave me too?”

                “No.” Tala wastes no time putting my doubts to rest. The tears spring to my eyes again. Finally something stable to rely upon. “Our duty to you has not yet been fulfilled. We will not abandon you, milady. Not in your hour of need.”

                “We need to recompense the grievances enacted upon you because of our own carelessness.” Orthos puts in with evident grief. “And until that time comes, please find it in your heart to forgive us. We will do anything to rectify our mistakes. Anything at all.”

                 I shake my head slowly and let out an airy sigh. “You.. did nothing wrong. I am so happy to have you both. When everyone else has abandoned me,” I hiccup, suddenly aware of my lonely isolation. “You remain.”

                “Oh, milady.” Tala take my hand closest to her and squeezes it under one of hers. The empathetic look in her heterochromatic gaze is moistened by tears. “Assignment or not, we wished to stay beside you. So do not cry. No matter what happens, you will have our shoulders to lean upon.”

                Orthos takes my other hand and cups both of his around it, smile lightly. “Tala is right. After all the kindness and benevolence you’ve shown us, isn’t it natural for us to wish to bestow those very things on you?”

                “Thank you.” I weep, a blooming sense of gratitude now warming my once chilled chest. “For I do not know… what I would have done if you two were torn away from me too.”

                They console me for some time, guardians of my body and spirit in ways no other could be. And I know they mean it- all these words of affection and fealty to me even though I was no longer to be the Lady of the Sand. In their minds, I had the sneaking suspicion that I would always be regardless of who Gaara married. And if my thoughts were correct, both of them would stop at nothing to see that he was brought back to me by one means or another.

                “The doctor will wish to evaluate you.” Tala stands to her feet and presses the back of her palms into both eyes, restricting the flow of anymore tears. “Orthos, remain here. I will fetch him for our lady.”

                “Aylin.” I correct her with the tiniest of smiles. “I am no longer anyone’s lady.”

                She turns on her heel. “You are my lady until the day you are laid to rest. Wed to our lord or not, you will have my loyalty and power to rely upon.”

                “As loyal a hound as any could be.” Orthos chuckles dryly once she’s left. His dark eyes fall on me and there’s a reassuring smile soon placed upon his features. “But I too feel the same. This issue has not been laid to rest. Until Lord Kazekage can see what is right for him, you, and this country in turn, I refuse to put faith into the words he utters. For if it had been me,” A slight change in his eyes that makes me shiver from its unwavering power. “I would not have squander a love etched from starlight and the essence of my own soul for anything on this planet.”

                “Do not… think less of Gaara.” I take a deep breath and allow my heavy eyelids to finally close. The pain was rising again, and it was hard to do anything but lay still now. “He has lost so much. To lose anymore… frightens him.”

                  “Love is something that can never be lost, milady.” He reminds me softly. “Regardless of strife or situation, it remains. It will always remain.”

                The tears roll from behind my closed eyelids. “But what good is a love that brings only sorrow in its wake? What good is love when death threatens to devour us all?”

                “It gives us hope.” He murmurs. “Hope that despite the evil in this world, that there is an unshakable sense of good that cannot be undone. Lord Kazekage has scarcely felt hope, and seeing it so abundant in you must have put the desire within him to save that light of yours even if his world dimmed to the point of being void of hope completely.”

                “But my light shines brightly because of him.” I can barely express the words as the grief of seeing him alone, maddened in the darkness by silence and solitude so he would never have his heart nor someone else’s gnashed in fate’s cruel mouth. “Without him, I too grow cold and dark. Without him, there is nothing. Nothing at all.”

                “We will not let you go without each other.” Orthos squeezes my hand. “So for now, heal your body and place your trust in us. One day soon we will have Lord Kazekage seeing clearly. But you must survive and become whole again for such a day to be possible.”

                I smile. “When have you known me not to fight?”

                “Never, milady.” A hint of amusement. “Which is why I’m placing my faith in you.”

                 But Gaara will not see logic in this.

                 Not when it came to dealing with me.

                There are no stops from him while I remain in the hospital. No gifts nor heartfelt words passed along to wish me a speedy recovery. Tala’s icy mask returns with a vigor, and I know she’s tried fighting to get him near me to no avail. Orthos himself looks downcast, his stubbled chin now casting a greater shadow across his face as he too becomes disheveled from his own tireless advances to have this all set right. I tell them to not provoke him into taking action against them, and they stop, knowing they did not wish to go against my wishes.

                “Milady.” I’ve been laying contently reading a book almost a week into my conscious recovery when Tala’s call comes. My body had laid in a dreamless sleep for ten days before I’d awoken, and it was clear that the damage done to it would bear its marks on me forever. I could feel the tightly bound bandages on my limbs and torso, as well as the broken bones in my left leg now healing quite clearly. And my organs, battered and bruised from attack and malnutrition alike, were almost always in agony that required some sort of medical aid to allow me to eat or sleep. It was an ugly ordeal to recuperate from. One whose progress I was glad I could not really see myself. “There is someone here to see you. Shall I let them in?”

                My heart does a flip-flop in my chest. It could either be Gaara or Uncle. Both of whom were well needed guests indeed. “If you please.”

                There’s a moment of slack-jawed disbelief when it is neither man coming to visit me. Kankuro and Temari avert their gazes as my own sweeps over them both. My stomach begins clenching in a mixture of confusion and horror. Why had they come? What possible words could they have to utter to me after the tense, almost loathsome silence they exuded whenever I was around?

                “Forgive us if we come at a bad time.” Temari’s the first to find the words as she and Kankuro pause a few steps into the room. “We didn’t know if you were accepting visitors, so…”

                “You're quite welcome here.” My reassuring reply does not put either of them at ease. “Please, won’t you sit? Orthos,” I turn to look at the man now leaning against the wall nearest the door. “Go have some tea made if you please.”

                “So it shall be done, milady.” A small dip of his massive frame and he is gone.

                “You must forgive them both for using such a title still.” I hope the smile on my face is apologetic enough for their liking. Kankuro’s settled on the stool nearest to the bed, but Temari remains standing, arms crossed over her torso, looking like she had come against her better judgment. “I’ve asked them to call me by my name, but… it’s a hard habit to break, I suppose.”

                Kankuro’s face falls. “Gods, Aylin. I don’t even know what to say to you. After everything we’ve done in response to this arrangement between you and our brother, for this to happen I… I feel like-“

                “Such an ass.”  Temari’s blue eyes burn holes into the wall to my left. Her arms tighten. “A big, stupid ass who should get a strong hit from someone.”

                “You two have no reason to feel deserving of such a title nor such an action.” My eyes fall to the blanket. “Gaara should have never been betrothed to me. You were right thinking that this was a terrible idea from the beginning. Seeing as this is the way it panned out, you were correct along.”

                Silence. Kankuro sighs at length. “We weren’t, Aylin. We were wrong. Terribly wrong.”

                I jerk my head to see his dispirited features peering at the edge of the mattress between us. “I don’t understand.”

                “I think you do.” Temari puts in softly. “Listen, I’m not going to sit here and play games for politeness’ sake. We’ve come to apologize, but also to beg you not to give up on our brother. He needs you.” Her teal eyes linger unwavering on my own, and I find it hard to blink as that powerful look radiates down to my core. “He really, truly needs you.”

                “Mari’s right.” Kankuro leans back, sighing as he relaxes the hands that have been balled tightly into the material of his trousers since he’d settled on the stool a few minutes ago. “Gaara’s never… he’s never had someone be so comfortable around him. So at ease knowing his past and treating him like he was a normal person without either walking on eggshells around him or kissing his ass now that he’s Kazekage. I know to you that might not seem like much at all, but to him, it’s the world. One he’d been barred from since birth until you came along.”

                “You can’t even imagine our shock when we realized it.” The humored look shared between the siblings lasts only a moment. “Gaara’s never been the type to talk about women- or anyone other than his beloved friend Naruto- so for him to bring you up or look so.. how would you put it, Kuro?”

                “Happy.” He laughs lightly. “Blissful, even.”

                Temari relaxes with a small smirk. “Yeah, sounds about right. I couldn’t believe it. So me being me, I asked him outright if he loved you. And he said yes, no hesitation. Which is something that we can’t take lightly. Nor should you.” Her blue eyes are heavy on me again. “So fight. I know he plans on keeping away, but he’ll only hurt himself by doing do. And as his big sister, I don’t want him to hurt anymore.” The calm expression holds a glint of grief and remorse now. “I don’t think any of us do.”

                “I don’t know what I need to do.” I murmur, eyes filling with tears as the sheer impossibility of it all remains a daunting wall I don’t think I have the strength to climb. “The betrothal’s been nullified. He’s removed himself from me completely.”

                The two sit in silence with me for some time. Orthos returns with the tea, and we all watch him distribute the steaming mugs before muttering that he’d step out until we were finished. I take a small sip or two, throat clenching as the lack of conversation boded badly. Even they were at a loss of what steps should be taken to regaining Gaara and setting this whole things back on course.

                “Be abrasive.” Temari finally thinks this to be the only option available. “Gaara will keep at arm’s length, so you go to him. Once you’ve finished healing, that is. Sometimes a startling reminder that you aren’t going to play along with his game is enough to make a man realize he’s not the only one in control.”

                Kankuro snorts. “You do realize I’m a man within earshot, right?”

                “Oh, right.” Temari’s dripping sarcasm has me giggling into one of my hands and Kankuro slumping over dramatically. “Sorry, Kuro. With all that makeup you wear I forget that you actually have a dick hidden in your pants.”

                “M-mari!” He sputters, beet-red. I’m just as mortified. How could she speak so crassly and not feel the tiniest smidgen of embarrassment? “Don’t carry on like you would if we were at home!”

                “Hey,” She smirks, stance relaxing ever more than before. “Since she’s going to be our sister-in-law, she might as well get used to it now and see us for who we really are. So,” A smile to me. “You’ve been warned when you and Gaara stop by to visit with us.”

                I smile lightly, warmed by her belief in me. “Thank you.”

                “Well,” Kankuro stands to his feet, cheeks still burning a little beneath the purple paint. “I think we’ve said a little more than we intended on saying to you,” His eyes slide to his sister who still isn’t fazed in the slightest, then back to me. “But please take what we’ve said to heart. Gaara’s important to us. So are you.”

                My eyes fall to the blanket, now burning with tears. “Thank you. Both of you. I’ll try my best for Gaara’s sake, not my own. Because like you said, I do not wish to see him suffer any more in this lifetime. All I want…” My hands tighten in the blanket. “All I want is for him to finally be freed from his sins and live a life showcasing how wonderful he is.”

                A small chuckle from the other two. I look up to see them both sharing a grin. “Us too.” Temari says, eyes now drifting to me as her smile remains constant. “So we’ll keep you to it, hm?”

                “Please do.” I let my gaze burning with determination linger on them. “It’s the only way we’ll be able to save him.”

 


	15. Perservere

               “Easy, milady.” Orthos cautions as I stumble slightly in the sand. It’s early in the morning- even before dawn. It was thought best for me to return home without the eyes of all the villagers upon me. And with the sorry shape I was still in, I was in no condition to plead otherwise. “Take it slowly. Your leg is still very much broken.”

                I readjust the crutch under my arm and curse as the sand continues to make it wobble and twist. Orthos is patient as he helps support me on the other side, though I can tell he would much rather hoist me onto his back and amble across the sand in such a manner. “I’m fine. Don’t worry on my behalf. Please apologize to Zaphir again for making me beckon for you before dawn’s come.”

                “She was not at all upset, milady.” He reassures me with a chuckle. “Happily in bed sleeping without me there to snore in her ear. Though I did have to convince her that her help was not needed. She insisted on accompanying me today, saying you would be in need of all the help you could get now that you have been released home.”

                I smile. “How very much like her. But I am glad.” My face falls. “With Uncle still refusing to step foot out of the house, I think it best that we… we do not overburden him with too many faces all at once.”

                “Are you nervous, milady? Of seeing him again?”

                The tears burn in my eyes. “No. He is my uncle and I love him but I," My throat clenches as the miserable feeling intensifies in my chest. "I feel guilty. Knowing such a fate may have been spared from him had this betrothal never occurred. He has lost everything.” My frown deepens. “Everything.”

                “Not everything.” My guard reminds me softly. “For he still has you.”

                Tala meets us at the door, her pale face smudged with shadows from what was sure to be a night of uneasy sleep. She comes to give me a hug, thin arms squeezing me tightly in a silent welcome, and I take the once reclusive woman’s physical gesture with a quickly vanishing surge of happiness. We all amble into the dark, quiet house, and I feel my chest ache at the strange feeling of being home after over a month healing in a hospital. Gods, how wrong it all felt. There would be no laughter, no dinners with Gaara, no intimate talks hushed as we sat together on the couch.

                _It won’t be this way forever_. I try to inspirit myself with some much needed optimism. _We just have to hold on a little while longer._

                “He’s down in his bedroom, milady.” Tala informs me softly, blue-green eyes sorrowful as we amble slowly down the hall. “I attempt to coax him out but… he seemed to be deaf to every word I uttered this morning.”

                I place a hand on her arm and give her a grateful smile. “Thank you, Tala. Uncle was very lucky to have you here watching out for him when I could not. You are a very dear, very precious friend to us both for taking up such a task without being coerced.”

                “No thanks needed, milady.” She murmurs, eyes wet with tears as she tries to keep her face blank. “It is my love for you both that compelled me to do such a thing.”

                We stop at the foot of the stairs leading down to the bedrooms, and I turn to give my guards turned confidants a calm look over. “I’ll go on my own from here. Orthos, you may return home if you so wish. You and Tala both, I suppose. We must learn to manage on our own. For one day soon, I fear you both will be pulled away by Gaara to fulfill other duties.”

                A split look between the two that lasts several seconds.

               “I’ll stay, milady, if you please.” Tala dips her head. “For there is nowhere else I would rather be than by your side.”

                “I’ll linger as well.” A flash of teeth from the man beside her. “So do not fret, milady. Did we not promise you during your stay in the hospital that we would not abandon you in your hour of need?”

                My smile grows a fraction. “You did. Well,” I sigh, courage wavering within me. “Let me go down and speak with him. I’ll be back in a little while.”

                A knock at Uncle’s bedroom door elicits no response. I try once more before murmuring that I was going to enter. The door swings open without qualm, and I blink as the sheer darkness of the room hits me. But nothing moves me more than my uncle’s frame huddled on the edge of the bed, head dipped to the floor as if he was unaware of the world around him. I wondered what world he locked himself within to keep the grief and misery at bay. And I wondered if even with me returning that he would remain in that place forever.

                I settle slowly on the edge of the bed near him. He makes no sound when the mattress dips with my added weight; his mind really is in another place entirely. I sit in silence for a short while, listening to him breathe, and finally move to place a hand on his back. The touch stirs him, and he sucks in a shaking breath.

                “Tala?” His deep voice is so uncommonly frail when it emerges. “Is that you?”

                “No, Uncle.” I confess softly. He trembles violently under my touch. “It’s me. I’ve come home to you.”

                He chokes back an ugly sob. “A-aylin?”

                “Indeed.” I rub my hand in slow circles across his back. “I’ve finally returned.”

                He comes to crush me in his arms, so tight he is actually hurting me considerably with my still frail system barely healed enough to be out of a bed. But I say nothing and let him hold me- let him smooth his hands over my back and sob against my shoulder. Regardless of all the horror and heartache, we had each other. And it was a precious gift I would never allow myself to take for granted.

                He embraces me for some time. But when he pulls away, he does so quickly and turns himself so I cannot see his face. I know he worries of how I will take his deformity. But gods, if only he knew how little I cared. Marred skin or not, he was still the parental figure I loved dearly.

                “Look at me.” I beg of him, voice shaking as the guilt of the attack all on my account strikes. “Please, Uncle. I wish to see the consequences falling in love with Gaara has inflicted upon you.”

                It takes quite a bit more coaxing, but he finally turns. I won’t lie. It’s an ugly sight. The purple marred skin travels up his neck, across his ear, cheek, and nose, until ending around his left eye. The once lovely molten silver is dimmed to a milky screen of visionless appearance; it’s true that he is now blind in that eye. The tears spill down my cheeks, not so much for his appearance, but for the endless suffering he’s been put through all on my behalf.

                “Forgive me, Uncle.” I weep into my hands. “Forgive me for letting this happen to you. I never wished for anyone to get hurt all because I had fallen in love with Gaara. But now the caravan is gone and you…” My tears stream faster down my cheeks. “You have been put through so much misery on top of that.”

                He wraps an arm around my shoulders and cradles me against his side. I lay my head on his shoulder and weep. Weep for him, for myself, for Gaara, and this horrible fate that wished for none to be happy and for all to suffer.

                “My poor rose.” He clicks his tongue regretfully against his teeth once we’ve pulled away. His hand cradles my tear-stained cheek, and I know he weeps for me on the inside. “What I would have given for you to be happy every day for the rest of your life.”

                “It is not over yet.” I reassure him softly. “Not for me, not for you, nor for any of the people in our life who have not found their heart’s song.”

                A small murmur of confusion. “Do you truly intend to pursue him, child?”

                “I won’t give up until I die or he is married to another woman.” I profess with a smirk. “So I hope I have your blessing to do as I feel led.”

                A small laugh echoes in the silence around us. “Aylin, when have I ever been able to veer you away from doing something once you’ve set your mind to it?”

                “Never.” I laugh myself before squeezing his arm under one of my own. “Which is the very reason you will come out of this room, sit with me in the kitchen, and enjoy a mug of tea.”

                I can almost feel the tangible change in his demeanor. “No. I do not wish-“

                “Please, Uncle.” I urge him softly, eyes misty as they take in his shame for being judged on the mutilation now marking him forever. “You are amongst friends. Surely you understand Tala and Orthos mean you no harm nor judgment by now, hm?”

                A slight pause follows. I wait patiently. Uncle had to take the steps forward from here on out. We had to go slow. Push too much and he might very well revert even deeper inside of himself.

                “Well,” He drawl uncomfortably into the silence. “I suppose if it’s only for tea… that would be alright.”

                “Very good.” I plant a kiss on his cheek and attempt to stand back to my feet with the crutch in one hand and the other sloppily attempts to push my body off the mattress. Uncle is quick to cushion my fall when I cannot do so in my own strength. After letting me catch my breath, he hoists me to my feet so that I can finally stand. “Thank you. I-“

                “You are still recovering, my dear.” His sole eye sweeps down my bandaged form, marred in places just like him, then down to my broken leg. “As strong as your heart miraculously seems to be regardless of hardship, this mortal body of yours needs time and patient care to regain its own share of strength. But no worry,” He ruffles my hair. “Now that you have been returned to me, I will do my part to get you back to health so you may save this young man from himself. For I think,” A tiny smile. “There is none other I would consider worthy enough to deserve you.”

***

                “M-my lady!” The receptionist on the base level of the government building suddenly stands to her feet, eyes wide as she extends a hand to pause my entrance. Everyone’s turned to look at me, but I keep my head held high and my smile polite. “Good morning. To what do we owe the occasion of a visit from you?”

                “I wish to see my betrothed.” I offer calmly, voice kind and even as my smile lifts a fraction. “So won’t you please have someone alert Lord Kazekage that I have business with him?”

                Her mouth hangs open for a moment, but she remembers herself and shuts it with a quick snap of her jaw. “Forgive me, but…” I can see her pulling for a viable enough excuse to send me away without alerting Gaara. “Lord Kazekage is busy. Very busy. So perhaps you should go home and rest your body.” Her eyes drift across my still healing wounds and broken leg with a look of sympathy. “You are still very far from fully healed, milady.”

                “I’ll wait.” I say, much to her evident dismay and disapproval. But she couldn’t deny me. Not until the betrothal was truly nullified and my title rescinded. “So you will have to excuse me. It will take me a little longer than usual to reach his office.”

                There are a blur of government officials, councilmen, and the like who flood past me in the cramped hall near Gaara’s office. They all stare like I knew they would, and there was sure to be a strong amount of gossip flooding every floor of this building about me as the hours ticked on. I wasn’t worried nor fazed from the task before me. If they talked, Gaara would hear, and he would be forced sooner or later to approach me for the sake of propriety.

                But he’s cunning. Deceptively so. I never catch sight of him, but there is the slam of his office door that alerts me that he is within from time to time. Part of me is irritated and a little hurt to see him ignore my presence in such a manner, but I knew he only did it because he hated confrontation as much as anyone could in these types of situations. But I would not leave- not until I saw his face and got my chance to speak my mind on the matter.

                “Aylin?” I jerk my head to see Kankuro standing before me. His narrowed eyes scan over my sweat-laced face, and he frowns. “How long have you been waiting here?”

                “Kankuro.” I manage with a light smile. It’s been hours. My limbs were weary from the strain of standing for long, and after politely declining any offers for tea from the few souls who dared approach me, I felt weak to my core. “How lov-“

                The world starts spinning, and I’m about to faint as the exhaustion finally wins over my determination. He’s quick to steady me by the arm, halting me from face-planting into the floor and looking like a complete fool. There’s a curse falling from his lips that’s not at all contained, and I know he’s fuming to see this situation panning out the way it was.

                “Sit here.” He walks me a few feet down the winding corridor to sit on a small bench. “I’m going to get him.”

                “Thank you.” I murmur, head dipped in shame. “Really, Kuro.”

                “Believe me when I say it’s my pleasure.” He replies, his gaze burning with muted anger. “I’ve been waiting for the chance to knock some sense into my baby brother for some time now.”

                It takes him some time to do as he promised. I know as badly as he wished to nab Gaara and force him into seeing me, the man was still Kazekage and could not merely be pulled by the collar to do one thing if something else more serious demanded his attention. But he couldn’t make excuses with Kankuro- not at least he wanted a beating in the end.

                “Aylin.” I jerk my head up, and there he is. My heart, once calmed by the prolonged sitting I’ve been doing, now races madly as his frame towers over me, straight-back and stiff shouldered. Those seafoam eyes hold no emotion, but deep down, I am sure he is feeling an ocean of them just like I am. “I’ve been informed you have been waiting for some time to speak with me. How long have you been waiting? And where are your guards?”

                “I came on my own a few hours after dawn.” I admit with a small smile. It was already afternoon. If he’s amazed or upset, there is no change on his face- none at all- that would indicate such a reaction. “But it’s quite alright. It seems I’ve managed to find a moment of your time like I hoped.”

                A slight narrowing of his dark-rimmed eyes. “Forgive me, but I have no time to spare for you.” He turns, maroon-robed back now facing me, and it’s clear he will not see me. “Go home. I will not have you wasting my time nor your own in such a manner any longer.”

                “Wait!” I jump to my feet, but forget about my broken appendage completely. There’s a ringing cry as a sharp wave of pain sends me slumping to the floor. I hear him turn, hurry the few steps back to me, and place a hand politely on my shoulder. “Please.” I whimper as the tears of pain mingle with those of my heart weeping to be heard. “Just give me a chance to speak to you.”

                He’s silent. Almost unbearably so. But then there’s a sigh in surrender, and my soul takes flight. Finally, a tiny spark of light at the end of this darkening tunnel.

                “Very well.” I can tell he doesn’t like acquiescing, but he does so all the same. “Come into my office and let me hear what it is that you wish to say.”

                He helps me to my feet but retracts his hold on me with a sudden quickness as if I had burned him. I know he is frightened, angry, and sad to have me force this situation upon us both, but this was what he needed- what we both needed. And this love within me now screaming to be heard, to be reciprocated and sustained for as long as life made this body linger on this earth, needed this as well.

                “Well?” The question comes after we have been sitting in painful silence for the span of a few minutes. I had been staring at my lap, wishing for him to give me one small morsel of hope- one chance to peek behind that emotionless mask he wore so well and speak these words aching to be uttered from the depths of my heart. “I’m waiting.”

                “I-“ The sharp comment makes my confidence waver for a moment. Did he really think being harsh with me would make this any easier? No. I try not to blame him. He did this to keep me at arm’s length so he would not cave to the emotions he did not wish to reign supreme over him. “I wish to tell you a tale. Once-”

                “ _No_.” The guttural negation is seconded by a slam of his palm on his desk that sends me jolting. My eyes burn with tears. How cruel. Heartless, even. He would not even let me speak more than a handful of words to him before deciding my fate. “I will not play this game with you any longer. Am I understood? Go home and live your life in peace. Or if you find that too difficult, converse with your uncle and choose a new destination to settle in. I will have the relocation paid for and made burden-less for you. Surely, out of all the places you have visited, there is somewhere you wish to linger.”

                “All I want is to linger by your side.” My frail, heartfelt comment is met by a wall of silence. I lift my eyes, and when I see his burning with muted anger, I find myself realizing this was not going at all like I supposed it would. “Please, Gaara. Don’t be like this. Don’t suffer in this manner, or-“

                “Or what? You’ll suffer in my stead? No.” He curls his hand into a fist on the desk between us. “I will let you do no such thing. The betrothal between us is very much nullified, and I have no intention of changing my mind on the matter. I will not wed you, Aylin.” He stands to his feet as I weep. “You are free to give your heart to any man- any man other than me, that is.”

                “Please!” I throw myself from the chair and onto the floor. “Give me one chance- any chance- to prove to you that this love within me is not wasted on you. I will never give up on you Gaara. Never. So please,” I tremble. “Test me as you will. Allow me to win back the love I have lost. For I would do anything, _anything_ , to prove to the world that I am unafraid to stay by your side for as long as eternity spans.”

                “Very well.” He acquiesces after a painful pause. I can feel myself shaking. Oh gods, yes! A chance! He was giving me a chance! “Then your test shall be this: once you have healed a little more, you will isolate yourself with the esteemed elders who live high above the village and try to earn their approval as to your aptitude for being my wife. Then and only then will I give thought to renewing this pact of marriage between us. But if they deem you unworthy, you have failed, and this plea for second chances will never be made again. Do you accept?”

                “Wholeheartedly.” The answer rings with my steady resolution to see it through. “I will prove you wrong.”

                “No,” He’s already at the door. I glance up at him, and the painful stance makes my heart- the heart that adored and yearned for him- lament that even now, he would remain in lonely grief away from me. “I don’t believe that you will. The elders do not think highly of anyone, nor do I think you of any special merit to sway them. You will fail, Aylin. And you will leave me alone once and for all.”

                And with that, he slips through the open doorway, and I’m left alone wondering if I had just made a promise I could never keep or if this would truly pan out like one of those tales I always told him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to everyone who is reading. Sad to say I will be doing quite a bit of traveling in the near future. I'll try to update when I have some time on my hands, but I promise I will finish this fic for you all. Even if it is a little while, until next time!


	16. Unshakeable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back?? Thank you to everyone who has been reading this fic. After a short hiatus, here is the next installation! Please enjoy.

                A sudden gust of wind threatens to topple me off the side of the steep, rocky incline that seemed to lead nowhere but up. There’s a hand quick to steady me from behind, and I breathe a sigh of relief as the desert still looms several hundred yards below. Gods forbid I finally embark on this journey only to find myself splattered to a bloody pulp from a horrible fall instead.

                “Thank you, Tala.” I glance over my shoulder to give her a look of grateful awe. She’s dressed a little more formally today, though the neutral-toned shinobi uniform of sorts seems to bring out the color of her lovely eyes that held so much emotion now. “Perhaps it would have been a good idea to bring Orthos as well.”

                “No need to burden him.” She scans the rock face still looming another twenty or so yards above us. “I am perfectly capable of keeping you safe, milady. This debt I owe to you will not let me rest until you are happy or I am dead.”

                I make a face. “Do not make such extremes with your loyalty, Tala. For do you not think you are deserving of every happiness as well?”

                “You are what makes me happy.” She replies without hide nor hair of embarrassment. “So as long as I am allowed to remain by your side, I have all my heart desires.”

                A tiny smile brightens my features. “You are a precious friend indeed. All the more dear to me for every act of compassion you do. You have my heartfelt thanks.”

                “The time to thank me has not yet come.” Her burning cheeks tell me she’s just unused to having such sentiments spoken to her. “So let us reach our destination and hopefully have such a time one step closer to occurring, hm?”

                There’s a large cave nearing the top of the rocky crag. It’s dark, ominous, and looks like it should remain uninhabited for all of time. I scan the sandstone, heart in my throat, and realize that this place would be my home for weeks, if not months.

                The news had been taken badly by Orthos, Tala, Zaphir, and Uncle. They all knew Gaara was sending me on a fool’s errand, but with no other viable options in securing his love again, I could not back out. There were angry curses to him for having me put under such duress, worries of my still healing wounds being reopened without the patient care and rest they needed, and sadness knowing I would be separated from them all for a long period of time.

                “Well,” I turn to look at Tala as she readjusts the bag I’ve crammed all my necessary items in a little higher on her shoulder. Her eyes linger on my face a moment later, and there’s a worried glint in them she can’t conceal. “I suppose this is goodbye for now. Watch out for Uncle, hm? He seems to trust and respond to you the most.”

                She shakes her head. “I’m sorry, milady, but I can do no such thing.”

                “What?” I blink, panic surging within me. She couldn’t be leaving on a mission, could she? “Why ever not?”

                “Because,” She averts her eyes to look out across the desert as her lips press together. “I wish to remain with you. Do I not have your blessing to do so?”

                A small coo of surprise passes through my lips. She wished to stay with me? The tears fill my eyes after a moment. It was an unexpected blessing I had not thought myself worthy of since taking on this whole blasted affair.

                “You may do whatever you please.” My smile grows when she looks at me with obvious gratitude. “You know I am in no position to say otherwise.”

                We both enter into the dreary looking cave and travel down the slick, almost treacherous tunnel just inside to get to the main chamber that looks like a destroyed city of old. It’s large. Spacious. A softly spoken word could very easily echo a hundred times over in this place. There’s a large pool of water that drips from time to time with the condensation hanging off a stalagmite dipping down from the top of the cave. And around that pool are two elderly people who look like they have been expired for the grave much longer than a normal person should have.

                The man turns to look at us once we’ve entered. His wrinkled face is kind as both I and Tala prostrate ourselves onto the cool, almost damp floor of the cave where we once stood. There’s a turban formed from yellowed bandages across the top of his head, and a large liver spot covering a majority of his left cheek. He turns his geriatric form towards the woman beside him, who’s sleeping with a fishing pole somehow miraculous upright in her hold, and gives her a shake.

                “Eh?” Her grumbled question echoes in the sheer silence all around us. There’s a sniff that lingers for a few moments, then a smack of her lips after a yawn drifts through the air. “Whaddya want?”

                “We have company, Sister.” The two both turn to look at me and Tala as we remain prostrate. “What should we do?”

                “Tell them to go home.” The woman commands her brother, and I feel my heart drop. She hadn’t even given me a chance! “We don’t need anyone disturbing our peaceful home. Especially not someone like _her_ or her overprotective guard dog.”

                “Begging your forgiveness, Elder Chiyo,” I keep my head pressed to the ground. “But I cannot return home at this time. Lord Kazekage has given me a task to complete, and I am not allowed to show my face in the village until your judgment has been given with its supremacy to seal our future.”

                “We are well aware of what brings you here, Aylin of the Tottori clan.” Chiyo says with a hint of amusement. “Very well aware. And as the Kazekage has said before, I will say to you again myself: there is nothing of merit about you. You will not win our favor. Go home.”

                “I think you are quick to judge me, Elder Chiyo.” I say with a small smile. “For if you send me away now, I will merely wait outside this cave every morning until dawn and beg you time and time again to allow me to prove my love for my betrothed until you are forced to give me your favor out of irritation to see me off or genuine respect for the steadfastness of my resolution.”

                A chuckle of amusement from her brother beside her. “She is a cheeky one. I haven’t seen a spark of life about a young woman for several decades now. Do you not think her amusing, sister?”

                “No.” Chiyo scoffs. “Just insane.”

                “Well, I suppose she would have to be to fall in love with a monster like him.” The two continue to speak as if I were no longer present. “And you do love him, hm child? Love this monster made into man for the sake of his own pride?”

                “I love Gaara with every ounce of my spirit and every cell in this physical body.” I confess, my adoration of him ringing in each word and every syllable. “So judge us both as you may, but such a sentiment will never change within me.”

                A dry chuckle shared between them. “She intrigues me.” He says to his sister. “Why don’t we put her through the ringer and see her true colors?”

                A scoff from her. “If that’s what you want to occupy your time for the foreseeable future, do as you feel led.”

                “Thank you, Sister.” He’s obviously pleased, as am I. “Very well, Aylin of the Tottori clan. We will appease your request for the time being. But know this: we will test you as we see fit, and you may very well never be strong enough to endure it all. Do you accept, knowing this? Or do you have a shred of sanity about you that wishes to reconsider?”

                “I accept, Elder Ebizo.” I do not hesitate to give my answer. “Test me as you may.”

                “Indeed we shall.” Chiyo puts in with an edge to her voice that was not at all encouraging. “But as for you, Tala of Jukai, your stay will not be tolerated. Return to the village and put your powers to use as they were intended.”

                “Forgive me, Elders, but I am bound in honor to remain by my lady’s side.” Tala seems not at all keen on appeasing them either. “So if she is to be tested here, then so must I.”

                A sound of amusement is split between the pair.

                 “Oh, is that so?” Ebizo inquires. “Are you sure of that?”

                “I am not the type to hesitate, my lord.” Tala’s surefire response has me smiling at the familiarity of it. “So yes, I am sure.”

                “Two women to tease and torture.” Chiyo drawls with a twisted sense of giddiness. “How shall we deal with this influx of activity?”

                “I’m sure we will think of something, sister.” Ebizo chimes in with his own warped sense of amusement. “So do not fret on our behalves.”

                They’re cruel. Almost inhumanly so. Every day, almost every hour, they twist my words, prod me with comments that harm and linger like thorns under my skin, and enact every terrible thing they can to make my nightmares spring to life and eat me alive. I can’t sleep. I can barely eat. There are days when I wonder if this is worth enduring- if this will only break me more than build me up.

                But then I think of Gaara, alone and sobbing in the darkness, and I know this must be endured. So I smile- smile through my tears, after I’ve wretched as the terror tears my belly asunder, and when I’m so irate with the way they speak of me, my family, and Gaara as if we were bugs meant to be squashed beneath their feet.

                Tala is not much better. I hear them torturing her too, but she is silent. Stoic. If she breaks or feels the sting of their words like I have, she makes no indication of it. All she offers me is support and concern. Without her, I was sure the days where I felt hopeless would have never reached an end.

                “Sit here with me, child, and look into the pool.” Ebizo beckons me to his side one day. This water was uncanny. Whether is flowed with the ripple of time or something just as powerful, I couldn’t tell you. I had cautioned myself around getting too close to it, but it seemed now there would be no avoiding it. “Tell me what you see.”

                “As you wish, Elder Ebizo.” I dip my head and sit with my legs tucked demurely beneath me. The water reflects me- blue-gray eyes smudged with exhaustion, bronzed skin almost jaundice from the amount of time spent locked away in this cave away from the warming rays of the sun, and the mauve colored gown I have on under my off-white shawl. “Forgive me, but I only see myself.”

                “Wait a moment, child.” He urges me, and sure enough, there is a strange ripple that begins to distort the image of my current self. It’s shrinking, morphing, and sure enough, here’s a new image. One of me with singed hair and soot-covered clothing. A wave of goosebumps overtakes my skin. Oh gods, no. Not this. “Well?”

                “I-“ I try to stand to my feet, but he’s clamped a wrinkled hand against my arm that is stronger than it looks. The terror within me swells. “Please release me. I cannot-“

                “If you cannot look upon your own past and find yourself at ease with it, how can you ever think of accepting our demon child’s own blood splattered past? So you will sit.” There’s a steely edge to the command. “And you will swallow this poison once and for all.”

                A push from behind me, and I’m falling into the pool. My scream is lost as the water begins to flood into the open cavity of my mouth, up through my nostrils begging for air, and I’m choking. The darkness floods over my writhing form, and as much as I fight, I cannot win.

                _“Mama?” I let Tolka dance in my hands as she sits behind me and brushes my hair. “Is it true that you can only see some stars during one season and not another?”_

_A soft giggle as she continues on with getting me settled for bed. “Yes, my love. In the winter, some stars in the northern sky shine bright but grow faint as the warmer season cut the night’s time. I think it is the gods’ way of reminding us that even in times of great darkness, there is a light we may fasten ourselves to. That there is hope in times of great sorrow.”_

_I nod, not at all moved by her sentimental words. “Oh!” I perk up, realizing it would soon be winter here at the outpost. “Maybe I should ask Papa to take me stargazing one day then! So I can see it for myself!”_

_“You father is still very much ill, Aylin.” Mama’s soft with her chastisement. She was right- after going to that foreign land, Papa had come back very pale and not feeling himself. I heard Mama crying when she thought I was asleep. He wasn’t doing well, and that boded ill for our family and the caravan as a whole that he led. “So do not put much hope into having him appease your desires on the matter.”_

_I dip my head and pout. “Okay.” I press Tolka to my chest and sigh. “Do you think.. maybe Uncle Nobu would do it?”_

_“Why don’t you ask him upon his return?” Mama says gently. “He should be back early in the morning if all went well with this last trip.”_

_“Okay!” I beam. Uncle was a nice man. Not so serious like Papa, but funny. I liked the way his silver eyes danced when he laughed. Marrah and Shibu always fell over, tummies hurting from laughing so much, when their dad came home. “I’ll do that then.”_

_She presses a kiss to my head. “Goodnight, my moonlight. I love you.”_

_“Night, Mama.” I hug her neck and press a kiss to her lips. “Love you too.”_

_Marrah was already asleep in her bed when I came in, but for some reason, I couldn’t follow her example and dream myself. Moonlight was seeping in through the window of our shared room on the top floor of the outpost, and all I could do was watch it make the specks of dust dance like little silver gems as they swirled in its glow. So fascinated with the midnight magic, I slip out of bed and carefully tread against the floor, Tolka pressed in the crook of my arm, and sit underneath the window._

_I make up a story about Tolka being a prince who had his body enchanted to look like he did. And every evening he was forced to dance for the fairy queen he had angered, twirling round and round under the night sky until dawn broke. It’s fun, making the fluffy bird shimmy and leap to the melody in my head, so much so that I’m giggling loud enough to stir Marrah a few feet away. I contain my laughter with a small smile; little girls her age needed their sleep to grow up big and strong like me._

_There’s a strange sound from the roof, and I pause my game to listen. Was it raining? I look out the window and see the moon still shining in the clear sky. I shrug and continue my game. Maybe I was just imagining things. Being tired did that to you sometimes._

_The moonlight starts to break, but before I can turn to see why, there’s a horrible sound- like the building is sucking in a big breath of air. There’s a whoosh, a rumbling boom, and I feel myself flying out the window, through the glass, and out to the forest just beyond._

_Then everything goes black._

_Pitch black._

_My body’s moving without me telling it to. I feel every rock, every twig on the forest floor scraping against my skin as its dragged along. Everything ached. Everything. I wanted Mama. I wanted her to hold me close and tell me everything was going to be alright._

_I whimper her name, and the movement of my body stops. There’s a pause, then I’m hoisted into the air. It so hard to breathe. It feels like every square of my lungs has been eaten away by smoke. Breathing hurts. Doing anything hurt. Why? Why did I feel this way?_

_My body is lowered to the cool earth again. I crack an eye open, breath shaking in and out of my mouth as the smoke still squeezes my lungs tight under its hold, and find myself staring into the face of a woman. No, not exactly that old, but she was definitely older than me. Her short hair is cropped in an almost boyish cut, but her face is pretty- so pale it made the two different colored eyes she had stand out as they widened in astonishment._

_She places a finger to her lips when I begin to sob. The scream bubbling up in my throat is clamped shut before it can emerge, and I watch her in hollow fear. Was she going to… kill me? She points to a tree with a hollowed out base and gestures for me to hide there. I’m shivering, eyes spilling silent tears as I failed to understand what was going on, and the teen takes off her soot-covered cloak and wraps it around me._

_“Go.” Her gentle voice commands me. “Or they will make me kill you too.”_

_I hide inside of the tree and watch her disappear into the shadows like she had never been. I lay and watch the outpost burn, the orange-red flames soaring high into the night sky now shielded from view by the huge plume of smoke that rose from the smoldering building, and say nothing. Because I was afraid if I made so much as a peep, the girl would come back and she’d throw me into the flames too._

                I come to with a shrill scream and wretch water all over the floor of the cave.

                “Aylin!” A sudden shout of my name rings endlessly inside my muddled brain. I shudder, groaning slightly as I move to lay back down. Gods, why was I so cold? And why did everything ache? “Aylin, speak to me!”

                One of my eyes crack open, and that’s when I see it. The face of the girl that horrific night matches almost perfectly with Tala’s visage, even if it had aged quite a bit over the years. I can’t breathe. Can’t comprehend.

                 No.

                It couldn’t be.

                Because if she did, then-

                “You were the girl.” I whisper, and her face suddenly drains of any color. My eyes burn with tears. “Why, Tala? Why were you there that evening?”

                “Oh ho, so the dog is forced to bare her fangs.” Chiyo cackles from somewhere nearby. “Go on, daughter of Jukai. Show her the hands stained with the blood of her own family you’ve so demurely hidden from view all this time.”

                Tala grits her teeth and looks away with a painful glint in her eyes. I can only weep. She had known, this entire time, and chose to get close to me regardless? “Tala?”

                She grits her teeth. “Elder Chiyo speaks true. My family was tasked with… with eliminating your own as commanded by the previous Kazekage.” Tala lifts a hand to her mouth. “I didn’t know. Didn’t know what I would have to do or why we were sent there. Forgive me, Aylin.” She dips her head. “Please forgive me for this atrocious sin I’ve committed against you and your clan.”

                I find it hard to think. Tala, there, watching the outpost explode in flames- flames her family created to kill me and my family as we slept. Tala there, listening to my mother, my father, my cousins and aunt all burning to death in their sleep or trying to escape the flames if they somehow happened to wake, and turning a blind eye to it all. She was there. She could have saved them- could have stopped this from happening.

                _Could she?_

                The murmured question within me cuts the vengeful loathing to nothingness. _How could one person stop the events she did not know would happen? After all, she did save you. Doesn’t that at least show she had tried to fight- had tried to save you all from this horrible fate she unknowingly played a part in?_

I slump over, body trembling as the weight of this realization hits me. Tala shrinks away, kowtowing on the ground, sobbing like she had been holding back her remorse for many, many moons. Not that I could blame her. I’m sure being assigned to guard me brought back painful memories she did not wish to drown in ever again. Was that the reason she remained so loyal to me? To repent for her grievous actions and not let what happened almost a decade ago swallow me whole if it ever happened again?

                “Tala, look at me.” I place a hand on her back as she continues to heave ugly sobs. “Please, won’t you look at me?”

                The woman lifts her head, eyes swollen and pale cheeks blotted with splotches of a bright red hue, and I run a hand under each of her eyelids to catch her tears as they continued to fall. The act of compassion and forgiveness only has her sobbing harder, her expression so completely vulnerable and broken that she seems years younger than she appeared.

                “How?” She croaks, tears still choking her. “How can you look at me and not hate me from your very core?”

                “Because you saved me.” I whisper, a painful smile tugging at my lips. “And I know you would have saved us all had it been possible. So thank you. Truly, thank you.”

                She lifts herself suddenly from the floor to hug me tightly. “Forgive me, my lady. Please. I hate myself- hate my family for doing whatever dirty business this country threw at us. I did not want you to suffer. I never wished to see your life go up in flames. I never wish for anyone to be cast into hell if they did nothing to deserve it.”

                I hold and calm her as the suppressed torrent of emotions now a decade old are unleashed from their spot once locked tightly inside of her. She’s sobbing. I’m sobbing. It’s a cathartic moment I’m sure neither of us ever imagined would happen before we came to this place.

                “Well, well.” I release Tala so that I can look at the elderly siblings sitting a few feet away, watching this whole ordeal unfold without interfering. Ebizo smiles lightly. “To offer someone who once caused you harm forgiveness instead of fury… you put the proverbs of compassion to shame, my dear.”

                “Hate to agree with him,” Chiyo crosses her arms and scowls. “But that’s a rare trait not many on this earth possess. One that would be highly beneficial to that brat’s wife.”

                My eyes widen in delight. “Does that mean that-“

                “We’ll have our consensus for you when morning breaks.” I retraining from pouting, lest she think that enough of a negative aspect to counterbalance this positive one she’s just praised me for. “So change out of your damp things, cook us supper, and rest that ugly head of yours until then.”

                I prostrate myself, dripping and cold as I was, onto the cave floor. “As you wish, Elder Chiyo. It is my honor and duty to serve you as you so lead me.”

                Tala and I sit in our bedding that evening, unable to sleep. She’s turned on her side towards me, eyes drifting across my blissfully calm features before smiling herself. “They will not deny you their favor. Surely they see you as we do and finally find you worthy.”

                “It would be nice.” I agree with a small chuckle. “After all, we have been here for quite some time trying to prove them wrong.”

                She hums half-heartedly. “Ten weeks is no small length. Nobu must miss you dearly. Every day you were in the hospital, he begged to know if you lived still.”

                “You are very fond of my uncle.” I can see the admiration in her face clear as day, but it slowly morphs to one of mortification when my statement registers. I giggle. “It’s alright, Tala. No need to be sheepish. He was very lucky to have you there to support him when I could not.”

                She averts her gaze to the fire burning a short distance away from where we lay. “Nobu is… a very good man. I am just happy that he allowed me to care for him when he could have chosen not to do so.”

                “We are all lucky to have each other.” I smile. “And tomorrow, I think, we will all be reunited once again.”

                She smiles too. “And you will have Lord Kazekage back at your side. I am so proud of you, milady. You have proven him wrong- proven everyone who did not believe your love to be honest and true that they had judged you prematurely.”

                I huddle a little deeper under my blanket and sigh dreamily. “It might take a little more coaxing, but I hope he caves soon. The future that once stretched before us shouldn’t be put on hold any longer. Not for his sake or my own.”

                She snorts. “He’s a fool for keeping away from you this long. If it had been me, seeing you waiting all day for me would have made me cave and spoken every tender word my heart wished to utter. But no matter.” She scoots a little closer so that she can clasp both of her hands around one of my own. “We will soon see you happy, milady.”

                “Please, call me Aylin.” I grin. “Not that I think myself unworthy of the title you bestow so easily upon me, but…” I laugh softly. “It feels wrong after becoming this close to you to not have you call me by my name.”

                “If that is what you wish,” She fidgets nervously. “Then I will do so from here on out.”

                My lips form a sleepy smile as I yawn. “Thank you. Well…” I yawn again, this time at length. “Good night, Tala. I wish you pleasant dreams.”

                “Good night, Aylin.” She gives my hand a small squeeze as she continues to hold it in her own. “May your dreams dance with the light that exudes from your soul."

 


	17. Topple

                If I clutched my hands any tighter behind my back, I was going to either loose circulation there completely or break one of my fingers under the strain.

                Elder Ebizo and Chiyo continue to devour their breakfasts at the same pace, not at all bothered by the imposing announcement they had yet to make on my behalf. I nibble from time to time on my own share of the meal, but I’m so nervous I can barely chew, let alone taste any of the food I’ve prepared. Tala’s silent just beside me, her pale features oddly pinched as she sits cross-legged with her gaze towards the mouth of the cave.

                “Some more tea please, Aylin dear.” Ebizo draws me away from my quiet observations of this last morning the four of us would share together with a kind smile. I scurry the short distance to his side and dutifully pour him another cup of tea without spilling a single drop. “Very well done. And perfectly steeped, may I add.”

                His sister scoffed. “Stop coddling her, brother. It’s aggravating.”

                “Tala?” I turn to look at her, but her gaze is still honed somewhere beyond where we sat. I place a hand on her shoulder, and she jumps straight up to her feet, stance rigid as she sweeps her eyes across us all with some panic. “Is something the matter?” 

                “Ah,” She falters while sitting back down. “No, Aylin. I’m sorry. Just a little… paranoid, I suppose.”

                “More like delusional.” Chiyo mutters not at all under her breath. “Not that I’m surprised. Your clan has always been a crazy bunch.”

                Tala frowns. “Perhaps our powers make us a little more… sensitive, shall I say, to the world around us, esteemed elders, but we try our best to honor the country with our actions and lives serving as shinobi.”

                “What exactly is your power, Tala?” I inquire politely, smiling when her heterochromatic gaze falls flat on me. “If you don’t mind sharing, that is.”

                She averts her gaze to her untouched meal. “My clan’s chakras can hone in on people we latch ourselves to, allowing us to track their movements, monitor their own energy levels, and if the person is willing and a shinobi with a powerful enough level of chakra, leech some of their energy to communicate either mind to mind or conjure ourselves as an apparition of sorts based on their elemental affinity.”

                “Ah.” I smile lightly, remembering the rare occasions she had communicated with Gaara. “I believe I understand now.”

                Tala smiles herself, though only for a second. Her face falls back into its stoic mask as she splits a look between the elders. “So? Shall we have your consensus or not? For I fear if we wait any longer, the heat will be unsafe for milady to travel in, and we will have to wait another day here.”

                Chiyo makes a face. “If there’s anything we wouldn’t want, it’s that.” A sigh before she looks at her brother. “Well, I suppose it is time for us to give our consensus as to our belief if you are worthy to be that brat’s wife. Are you ready, Aylin of Tottori, for the weight of our judgment?”

                I prostrate myself against the cave floor and hope my form isn’t shaking. “Speak, esteemed elders. My ears ache to hear the weight of your wisdom without fail.”

                A chuckle from Ebizo. “Shall I break the news to her, or shall you?”

                “You do it.” Chiyo moves to hobble away. “I’m going to sit by the pond and finally return to my fishing in peace.”

                Another chuckle from her brother. “It seems this will be my charge, then. Well,” He sighs at length. “How to say it, how to say it. Over these weeks barely shy of three months, you have offered yourself to be tested and judged for your affinity to be called Lady of the Sand and wed our newest Kazekage. At first, we thought you nothing but a lovesick fool who did as she pleased, but as weeks went on and your true colors shone in this dark, dreary place, we began to see that while yes, you were in love, you were also kind, patient, and ready to give to those even when they would give nothing in return. A rare and beautiful rose that blooms in adversity must not be trampled, my dear, but carefully nurtured. So rise, Aylin of Tottori. You have won our favor.”

                I lift myself up off the ground and race the short distance to squeeze the weathered old man in my arms. “Thank you!” I squeal, tears of joy spilling down my cheeks. “Oh, thank you, Ebizo! Truly.”

                “Ah, careful my dear,” He cautions me with a small chuckle. “Careful. We are still very much expired for the grave even now, hm?”

                I let out a half-embarrassed laugh as I removed my hold on him, remembering the grumbled comment I had said to Tala several times in the span of our stay here when I had though them out of ear shot. Ebizo’s smile is kind, but he waves me away in the direction of his sister. I scamper over to her, prancing like a horse in the prime of its life, and sit beside her. The woman scoffs as she gives my giddy features a sidelong glance, but she does not pull away when I move to squeeze her too in my arms.

                “Yes, yes.” She pushes away and roll her eyes in dramatic exasperation. “Now go home, will ya? There’s a storm brewing, and I’m afraid it is one that will shake the village.”

                “As you wish, Elder Chiyo.” I grin. “We’ll go pack our things and be on our way.”

                After one last round of goodbyes to the senile siblings, Tala and I make the steep climb out of the tunnel and stand in the cave’s mouth, blinking in the sunlight. I can’t help but grin, the giddiness overtaking me to the point that I was twirling like I had when I was a small girl. The dark and light blur into cohesive image as the world spins beneath my eyelids, and I can’t help but laugh. I did it! I had won the elders’ favor! I had proven Gaara wrong!

                I pause to giggle in embarrassment, a little dizzy as the world continued to spin around me for a few moments after I stood still. “Sorry, Tala.” I lift my eyes to look at her once my vision’s even again, but she’s not conscious of the world around her. Those eyes of hers burn that uncanny blue, and I can feel my heart jumping up into my throat. “Tala? Who are you speaking with?”

                A tiny smile and a slow raise of her hand to tell me to wait a moment. I can’t help but watch her wide-eyed, and run through the list of options quickly in my mind. My chest aches as the sudden realization hits me. It had to be Gaara. Oh gods. Was she breaking the good news to him? My eyes fill with tears. Would he finally come to his senses?

                “Tell me.” I clamp my hands around her forearms once she’s come to. She jolts from the sudden contact, but there’s a tight-lipped smile on her once expressionless face that reassures me that I was right all along. “What did he say?”

                She snorts. “A suitable answer from our lovely Kazekage: one that speaks nothing on what he is actually feeling, and everything on what he is expected to say. But do not fret, Aylin.” The smile returns. “I have a sneaking suspicion you have made him speechless.”

                “I see.” A tiny laugh I can’t help but release as the joy surges within me. “Let’s take that as a good sign.”

                She nods once. “But we must hurry and return to the village. Elder Chiyo spoke true.” Her eyes return to the lonesome desert looming for thousands of yards before us. “Something troublesome is brewing, and we must have your safety ensured.”

                I think they both meant a terrible storm. But gods, the closer we got to the village, I couldn’t help but feel this growing sense of unease. After spending so much time in that cave, away from the sun or sand, I told myself I was merely unaccustomed to being in this environment again. Everything would be fine. It had to be.  

                Uncle holds me close when we return, and I’m so happy to back here with him. He hugs Tala too, much to my surprise and her embarrassment, and when the two move to have a tender moment, I excuse myself to take a well needed shower. I couldn’t help but grin like a fool. So I had been right about their relationship being something more than either of them let on. Not that I was bothered at all. They both deserved love and happiness after all they’d been through too.

                I lounge around on the couch as my hair dries, exhausted with more of a mental sense of fatigue than that of body. Those Elders had spared nothing to picking me apart in the span of time we’d intruded upon them. But I had grown thanks to it. Now, I truly could believe in myself and my ability to stand by Gaara’s side and not burden him as he tried to make this country, and the world as a whole, a better place.

                There’s a loud set of knocks to the door a few hours later. I leap to my feet, heart hammering, and can’t help but wonder if it’s Gaara. Tala appears suddenly in the hallway, but I wave her away, too anxious to let anyone else break the news for me. My hand turns the knob quickly and the door throws open to reveal-

                “Kuro?” I blink, but sure enough, it’s still him on the other side.

                “Aylin?” He breathes, just as surprised as I was to have this sudden reunion happen between us. “You’ve returned?”

                A tiny smile. “Just this morning. I’ve won the elders’ favor.”

                He averts his eyes to doorframe between us, suddenly burdened by a heavy sadness. “As much as I would love to celebrate with you for doing so, I have some serious news to break with you all. Can you pass the message on to whoever is here with you?”

                “Of course.” I blink, heart slowly sinking farther and farther as his uncomfortable expression registers. “What is it?”

                “You have three hours to put away your belongings and head to the underground bunker. We’re being attacked.” The purple face paint morphs as his face constricts. “So decide what you don’t mind losing in the event the village is destroyed, and what you wish to keep with you.”

                I can’t breathe, let alone think.

                Attacked. He said attacked.

                We were being attacked?

                “Gaara.” I breathe, eyes wide as I watched Kankuro grimace. “Is he-“

                “We must protect this village or die trying.” He murmurs. “I’m so sorry, Aylin, but he won’t be coming for you today. Please understand.”

                I make a small noise of concern. “That’s not what I’m concerned about.” The tears blur my vision of him standing so painfully staunch inches away from me. “Please be careful. Both of you. And Temari too.”

                “Mari’s actually in Konoha right now.” He admits softly while laying a hand on my shoulder. “But thanks for the sentiment. We’ll be just fine. You worry about yourself. And once this is all over, I’ll walk Gaara over to you myself and make him admit he was wrong.” A kind smile. “Promise.”

                I laugh as I wipe away the accumulating tears on my cheeks. “Okay. I’m going to keep you to it, so don’t you dare think of backing out.”

                A tiny chuckle. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Well,” He turns to look out at the village. “I have to go break news of the evacuation to the rest of this street. Until later, Aylin.”

                And so we plan, pack, and prepare ourselves. As the sun is dipping across the horizon that afternoon, Uncle, Tala, and I all make our way to the entrance of the underground bunker furtively hidden in one of the rock faces cradling the village. There’s hundreds of people, civilians and shinobi alike, clogging the path to the entrance, and it’s a frightening feeling to see us all leaving our homes with no certainty of seeing anything but rubble where they once stood when we reemerge some time later.

                 If we reemerge, I should say.

                “Milady!” I jerk my head to see Orthos jogging over, one hand hugging Zaphir close to his side, while the other holds tight to one of his children. The oldest of the three is holding onto the other child, and I’m glad to see them all safely gathered together. “Thank the gods. I had worried that we would not find you.”

                “Orthos, Zaphir.” I hug them both tight. “I’m so relieved to see you. In this time of uncertainty, we must all band together to keep the fear from eating us alive.”

                He grins. “Spoken like the Lady of the Sand. You have grown, milady. And I am proud to be able to say it to you.”

                “Thank you.” My smile is small but genuine. “But I have yet to be acknowledged by Gaara. So let us keep any more compliments to ourselves until this ordeal is over with and we can all breathe easy again.”

                It’s packed in the bunker. Loud and dimly light with rows upon rows of cots that look like they have been here for decades. People are clustered in various groups, and as much as I would like to sit with my own closely-knit unit and wait for the danger to pass, I know I could not sit still long enough to do so. If I wanted to be Lady of the Sand, I had to do my part, just like my betrothed, to have the citizen’s safety and wellbeing ensured.

                “Tala, Uncle, wait here with Orthos and his family.” I smile lightly. “I’m going to check on the evacuation and see what all I can do to aid the process.”

                “Nobu, stay with them.” Tala is quick to separate herself from the others. “I will accompany you, milady. It is unsafe for you to be on your own.”

                “Allow me to come as well.” Orthos dips his head. “For I must do my duty in protecting you too, milady.”

                My eyes blur with grateful tears. “Very well.” I give a small smile to Zaphir and my uncle. “We’ll be back shortly. Stay together.”

                The shinobi at the entryway of the bunker think we are attempting to leave at first, but when they realize it’s me, they dip towards the ground in a reverent kneel. “My lady. How can we be of assistance to you?”

                “Rise, please.” I say calmly, and offer them all a small smile. “And that is the question I should be to asking you. Let me be of aid somehow. What can I do to make this whole ordeal easier on this village as a whole?”

                A shared look amongst the four. One smiles. “We have our orders from Lord Kazekage, so do not worry about aiding us in our duties. Walk amongst the citizens and see if they are in need of anything. If we can offer them anything, just relay a message back to us.”

                We spend the next few hours ambling through the pockets of villagers, speaking to them and aiding them when possible. Most are fraught with anxiety and do not wish for anything but this time of trial to pass, while others ask for one small item or another. There is a child lost from its family more than a handful of times, but everyone is thankfully situated when the evening rations are passed out by the groups of shinobi tasked with overseeing the bunker. I excuse myself from eating to continue my rounds amongst the others with Tala, and I smooth a hand over a trembling person’s back or rock a weeping child unable to comprehend this serious situation in my arms, all the while reminding everyone that I would not let them suffer in vain, nor would Gaara. The sentiment moves most of the people I come across, and that’s when I see it- the pride and trust in their eyes when they look upon me.

                There’s a terrible shake not long after most have finished their meals. Tala pushes me against a wall and keeps me from falling as the horrible trembling of earth all around us sends things and people toppling to the ground. There’s a variety of noise in the bunker now: screams, high-pitched wails from frightened children, and panicked shouts that we were all going to die. I cannot think of my own safety in those moments, but Gaara’s. What was going on above ground? Was he alright? Injured? Suffering?

                _Please, my love, live_. I weep as another tremor shakes the bunker, this one even stronger than before. _Let this trial pass so I may hold you in my arms and never let you go again._

The tremors continue on and off for the next few hours. Some are small, while others are so violently strong I’m frightened to my core that this was much more dire than any of us imagined. Tala holds me close, whispering she would let no harm come to me, and I’m glad that she remains beside me to support me as this world we once so peacefully lived in reverts to chaos.

                But they stop. Even if they lingered longer than any of us wished, the sudden hush of the village above us reassured us that the nightmare was over. We had survived, and we would persevere. No matter the state of our village, buildings could be rebuilt. People could not.

                I spend most of the evening hours bandaging small wounds for villagers, rocking a shaking child to sleep, or soothing a person who feared the worst not that the threat of invasion was over. Tala is uncommonly quiet, and I wonder what is bothering her. But when she begins to avert her gaze, eyes burning with tears, I start to feel my heart freezing inside of my chest.

                “Something’s happened to Gaara.” I whisper once the two of us have retreated to an isolated corner of the bunker after most have fallen into an exhausted sort of slumber. She chokes back a sob, and I feel sick to my stomach. “Tell me, Tala. Please.”

                “He’s not doing well, Aylin.” Her frail, woeful confession hits me like a rock to the stomach. “I can feel his lifeline, but I’m sorry. I’m so terribly sorry. He’s… growing faint. It’s hard to tell if it’s fading from distance, declining health, or a mix of the two.”

                Dead.

                Dying.

                My love. My life. Very soon to be gone from this world forever.

                “I see.” My whispered reply barely drifts through the air between us. I place a hand on her back when she dips to place her head in her lap and shakes violently. “Do not weep, Tala. You played no part in this. Gaara will be fine. Let us have faith in him.”

                She sleeps a short time later, head cradled in my lap as she curls into a small ball beneath the blanket I’ve draped over her form. I cannot sleep. I let my dry eyes drift across the hundreds of people laying in cots or on the floor all around me and feel a mixture of emotions. Pride, that Gaara had saved us all. Relief, that there were no grand scale casualties that had to be dealt with once morning came. And grief. Such strong, unshakeable grief that the price for us all to live might very well be that he sacrificed his life in our stead.

                “I love you, Gaara.” I whisper into the silence, wishing that somehow, some way this tiny message would reach him- would sustain and protect him in this time of despair. “Return home. Please. Return to us all and allow us to shower you with our adoration and gratefulness for the man you’ve become.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love won, but the Sand suddenly under siege before their fated reunion? Our poor tragic lovers just can't catch a break... How will Aylin deal with the aftermath of the Akatsuki's kidnapping of Gaara? Stay tuned!
> 
> And always, thank you to everyone who is reading! See you in the next installment.


	18. Whirlwind

               When morning breaks, the villagers are given one more ration and sent back up to the surface to see to the state of the village with their own eyes. I step into the sunlight, blinking as the village remains as it always has been with its sandstone buildings glowing with a warm glow from the sun beating down strong even at this point early in the spring season. Gaara had only been in office for a little over a year.

                One year.

                I try not to cry as that fated amount of time always seemed to bring so many tragic changes with it.

                “Nobu, come stay with us, won’t you?” Zaphir offers to my uncle once we’ve all stopped to take in the ironically serene scene unblinking for several moments. Uncle’s holding the youngest of her children against his hip, looking a little better than he had the day before. “It would very much put us all at ease to know we were all together.”

                “If that is what you wish.” He’s looking at me now. “Aylin?”

                I offer a tight-lipped smile, knowing my brain was no longer focused on the conversation between us all. “Go on, Uncle. I have business to attend to, so I won’t be able to come along with you.”

                “Don’t do anything, brash, my dear.” His sole eye drifts over me with some concern. “I know you are worried but-“

                “Don’t worry.” I squeeze his arm. “I know what I should and shouldn’t do.”

                It’s oddly quiet in the governmental building.  Part of me wonders if any of the councilmen are even here, but knowing the state of the country, they had to be. I couldn’t help but wonder what their plan of action would be. Would they gather an elite group of shinobi and send them after Gaara? Or perhaps multiple groups to overpower the enemy with sheer number instead of merely power?

                “I’ll go alert them that you wish to speak with them.” Orthos dips his head kindly once we’ve reached the floor where the council chamber was held. “Wait here, milady.”

                Orthos arrives back a short while later, pinched-face and eyes burning. My hands tighten instinctively at my sides. It was a bad sign. A terrible one, even. “Orthos?”

                “Forgive me.” He prostrates himself before me, head hung low. Those broad shoulders of his are taut, and he looks extremely uncomfortable. “But the councilmen will not see you. They believe they have nothing to say to you. I have been tasked with insisting that you return home and leave dealing with such business to the men.”

                “Dry oasis!” Tala curses as she stomps towards the door. “I would have let their misogynistic ways pass without so much as batting an eye in any other situation, but this is incredulous! Let me through!”

                I grab her by the arm. “Tala, no! I command you not to go. Do _not_ provoke them. There is tension enough as it is. We must be patient. Please.” My eyes burn with tears. “We must all work together if we wish to see peace come from this time of chaos.”

                A creak from the door. We all jolt, and soon a man I vaguely remember comes out and shuts the door behind him. It takes me a moment to match the face with a name, but it seems he has no problem remembering me as he gives me a tight-lipped smile.

                He dips his head. “My lady.”

                “Baki.” I dip my own head in return. “Please forgive us for interrupting the councilmen’s conference. I had just wished to know what happened last night, but…”

                “Please, come this way.” He gestures down the hall. “It is best if you are sitting when the news is broken to you.”

                I sit on the bench down the curving corridor, hands folded politely on my lap even though every nerve in my body was itching to have them curl into tight balls against the material of my dress. Tala and Orthos stand on either side of me, but Baki remains just before me with his turban-wrapped head dipped towards the ground.

                “Well?” I venture calmly, knowing that if he drew this silence out any longer, one of us would go mad. “Will you please tell me what’s going on, Baki?”

                He frowns. “Forgive me, my lady, but this news is difficult to break. Especially to you. Lord Kazekage… Gaara was targeted last night and captured. The malicious band behind this is ordeal is notorious for their cruel acts of terror. It was not the country they wished to attack, but him alone. I sent a team of shinobi after him, but when none returned, Kankuro himself went to track him down. He is still missing as well.” He takes a shaking inhale of breath. “And I fear that he and Gaara may very well be dead before night falls.”

                I lift my hands to my lips to suppress the screams of anguish. They obviously wanted Gaara for his power. But he would never appease them. That much was certain. Then what could possibly be done? And poor Kankuro. Had they killed him too to keep their trail from being discovered?

                “I see.” I drop my hands from my mouth slowly and carefully stand to my feet. “Let me no longer hinder you from your meetings this morning.” My head dips, and both Tala and Orthos fall to their knees in a formal farewell to the councilor as well. “I’ll return home. Do not hesitate to find me if there is any new- any news at all- on either Gaara or Kankuro’s behalf. Or if there is anything I can do to assist the village through this time of uncertainty. I am here to humbly serve as Suna demands.”

                “As you wish, my lady.” He dips his head. “I will do as you bid.”

                I don’t make it very far down the hallway before retching everything from my stomach into a potted plant nearby. Orthos and Tala are both quick to soothe me, their hands warm on my back as I gag and vomit until only a stinging yellow bile spills from my lips. The images of Gaara and Kankuro’s lifeless, mangled corpses won’t budge from the forefront of my mind. They were suffering right at this very moment and I…The tears burn in my eyes. I could do nothing to stop it.

                “Shh, milady.” Orthos rubs a hand across my shoulder blades as I weep. “Do not weep so. Let us go home and await more news from Baki. It is too early to grieve. Let us have hope.”

                Tala releases a small hum in agreement. “Orthos is right. Let us believe in Lord Kazekage and Lord Kankuro in turn. They are powerful men who will not back down without a fight. Did they not rush across the span of the desert, navigate through a foreign country, and fight off a hoard of rogue ninjas to save you without getting so much as a scratch?”

                Her belief in them revitalizes the peace within me. “Yes.” I right myself, run a hand over my eyes, and smile lightly. “They did.”

                It’s a painful silence to sit through. Waiting was unbearable. Distracting myself seemed too painful to do either. Uncle wraps an arm around my shoulders and coaxes a cup of tea into my hand from time to time. Zaphir brings us food as well, but I’m so robotic I can’t manage more than a few mouthfuls that taste like nothing but ash and bones against my tongue.

                There’s a hurried set of knocks to the door. Orthos goes to open it in my stead when I jump off of my stool. There’s a small murmur of two men talking, then Baki steps in. I dip my head, hands tightened into the material of my gown, praying for a small miracle.

But nothing about his tense countenance puts me at ease. He’s come with bad news. And I can only dread how terrible it is until he finally speaks.

                “Kankuro has returned.” He starts, but his frown deepens when I murmur a relieved comment. “Though I think that an incorrect way of stating such news. He was found unconscious several hundred yards away from the village. His puppets were broken all around him as he laid convulsing from a poison now rampant in his system. He is in the hospital now. They are working on an antidote. I have alerted them that you may come and go to visit him as you please.”

                “And Gaara?” I question frailly. “Is he…”

                “Still missing, my lady.” A sad glimmer in the eye not covered by a sheet of fabric dangling down from his turban. “But rest assured I am going to speak with the village elders and find a way to save them both.”

                He leaves, obviously in haste to reach Chiyo and Ebizo before anything else could occur. I’m nauseous, frightened, and so terribly cold it felt like the warmth of a thousand suns would not revitalize my heat. Gaara gone. Kankuro back, but barely so. Oh gods. So much heartache. So much maddening grief. How would we get through this? How would I ever learn to live a life without either of them?

                “Let us hurry to the hospital.” I turn to throw my pleading gaze onto my guards. “I will not let Kankuro suffer alone.”

                 The village is alive with noise and activity. Despite the turmoil of the night before where we all held our breath underground and prayed to see the light of the sun soon, it seems as though the terror had been wiped away from the masses and had almost been just a dream as I glance from a group of smiling children racing across the sand to vendors selling their wares. My heart constricts. How could they go back to their normal lives so soon? Did they not fret for Gaara? For being without their leader? No. My throat clenches. What mattered to them was their own wellbeing, not his.

                It’s a dismal scene in the hospital that perfectly matches my mood. We’re quickly pointed in the direction of the third patient ward, and I can feel my heart slowing with every step I take in that direction. The averted glances and dipped chins of all the medical assistants we come into contact with reassured me that my brother-in-law’s condition had probably worsened in the span of time that he had been here under their care.

                No cure. No hope. Everything was lost. Everything.

                Kankuro’s lying on a cot, chest heaving with breath after painful breath he takes. His usual make up has been wiped from his face, and he looks so pale. So ill. The poison was running its course and there was nothing any of us could do to stop it.

                I settle on the floor beside him and clasp his hand in both of mine. “Live, Kankuro.” I plead, trembling with grief as the thought of a future without his laughter, his joking banter, or the jovial way he interacted with us all hits me. “Please don’t let me lose another precious person in my life.”

                The medical ninjas assigned to his care come and go at various intervals, but they pay me no mind so that they do not disturb my unwavering watch on this man who meant so much to me. I hear Tala and Orthos chat with them in muted strings of conversation, and the only thing certain was this: Kankuro would die by this poison’s hand. They had no cure. There was no antidote they could find to save him from the thing within him that ate him alive.

                He begins to stir slightly several hours later, groaning in what sounded to be excruciating pain. The tremors of his body travel down his arm and up my own. He was suffering. And all I could was watch.

                “Shh, Kankuro. Be calm.” I come to sit on the edge of the cot now, smoothing one hand over his sweat-laced face while the other still holds his hand. “You’ll only suffer more by moving. Lay still. Don’t fight.”

                A pained wheeze, followed by a heavy shudder. His eyelids flutter open, sweep the room, then me, before shutting with another fluttering movement. “A-aylin?”

                “It’s me.” I reassure him softly. “I’m here with you, so don't worry. You need not suffer alone any longer.”

                “I… sorry.” He pants for air. “Promise…broken.”

                _Once this is all over, I’ll bring Gaara back to you and make him admit that he was wrong_. _I promise._

I shake my head as his words from only the day before echo in my ears. “Don’t worry about that. All that matters is that you survive, hm? Because I won’t forgive you if you die, dummy.” A laugh in between my tears. “Neither will Mari or Gaara. So live, Kuro. Live.”

                A choked sob on his behalf is the only answer I get as his body begins to seize. I scream for the medical assistants, for anyone, anyone at all, who could help him. They inject him with some kind of sedative and he lays still a few minutes later. A brief lapse into silence that would cease to exist the further the poison progressed in his system.

                I stay beside him for hours following. Tala and Orthos come and go at intervals, asking me if I wanted some tea or a bite to eat. I refuse them both calmly, knowing that with my throat clenched as tightly as it was and my stomach churning faster than any whipping wind across the desert neither sustenance nor drink would linger in my system for long. All I ached for was clarity. A tiny speck of light that would help me find the way out of his dark, scary hole we’d all fallen into against our will.

                Kankuro’s fading. He’s fading fast. I can see it in the pallor of his cheeks, the growing raspy-ness of his breathing, and the increased spasms his body unwillingly convulses into thanks to the poison latching itself deeper into his system. They can do nothing to aid him save for the sedatives and checking his blood for any sign- any sign at all- of what could be plaguing him.

                “Aylin.” A warm hand on my shoulder draws me from my dreamless sleep. I suck in a breath, mouth dry from hanging open in my slumber, and find that it is now morning. Oh gods, no! Kankuro.  Was he- I jerk my head up, but he is still on the cot beside me, breathing shallow but still apparent.

                Alive. My eyes brim with tears. He was still alive, even now.

                I rub at my eyes as the hand uncurls itself from my shoulder. Baki is staring down at me with a concerned frown, and just behind him are Chiyo and Ebizo. It’s hard to feel anything now other than frightened numbness. Were they here to aid Kankuro? Or merely to chastise him for getting himself into such a predicament?

                “Baki?” I murmur sleepily, still very much exhausted from the brief snippet of sleep I’d gotten after Kankuro’s last round of convulsions. “What are you doing here?”

                “I’ve brought the elders to see if they can aid Kankuro.” He drifts his gaze over what was sure to be a very disheveled appearance on my behalf. “Please return home, my lady. You are in need of rest and some time to yourself.”

                I want to plead with him to let me stay, but I know it will fall on deaf ears. After muttering a polite greeting to the elders, I amble outside the room to where Tala and Orthos have been stationed since my arrival here sometime yesterday. Part of me wishes to apologize to them for keeping them here for so long, but I can’t find the words. Everything is a blur inside my mind and soul. And I fear it may never become clear again for as long as I continue to live.

                Tala somehow prompts me into taking a bath when we arrive at Uncle’s house instead of back to Zaphir’s, and I am too weary in mind and spirit to fight her. She brushes my damp locks and helps me dress, and it all blurs into one incoherent blob that I can’t process. Orthos then gives the suggestion that some sleep would be beneficial for us all, and I amble up the stairs to sleep on the couch.

                I see a vision of Gaara and myself as I linger at the entrance of the sitting room. It’s the day he had come late after that failed assassination attempt and he rested his head on my lap as I told him a tale. I can see it all so clearly- his calm features, his relaxed slump against the padded couch, and his gentle hold of Tolka that made him look like a child instead of a man of eighteen or nineteen years. And how he had opened his beautiful seafoam eyes- so longing, so confused as to why my tender caresses had to come to an end- and that spark of romance between us had first been ignited.

                A spark, I was afraid, would be snuffed into nothingness now that he remained lost to me.

                But I cannot weep. Cannot scream. I lay on the couch and stare at the ceiling, listening as Orthos’ snores drift in from another part of the house. Uncle is still with Zaphir, and I’m glad that he cannot see me crumbling right before his very eyes. Was this how he had felt when my aunt and cousins passed away? If so, how did he ever overcome this feeling of sorrow that tugged like an anchor and threatened to drown me from the inside out?

                Tala’s the first to wake a few hours later. She ambles into the sitting room, lifts my limp head, and moves to occupy the couch cushion it once rested upon. One of her hands runs through my still loose locks, so slow and gentle I knew she was doing everything she could think of to soothe me.

                “You didn’t sleep at all, did you?” She questions me softly. My silence is an answer in and of itself. A long sigh escapes her lips. “I see. You must try to keep yourself sane, Aylin. You must have strength to hope, but there is a strength needed to also swallow the harsh reality of things if this is how these events will pan out. I do not want you to fade in grief. For I think that would break Lord Kazekage’s heart more than anything else on this earth. Not to mention mine, Orthos, and your uncle’s as well.”

                The tears spill down my frozen cheeks. “I’m sorry, Tala, but I can’t…” I screw my eyes shut, hiccuping as the uncertainty ate me alive. “I can’t see a future without you all in it. If Kankuro dies... and Gaara too... what will I do?”

                “Let us not speak of that scenario until it is truly upon us.” She smooths my hair under her palm. “So until then, rest, eat, cry.. live. Please Aylin. You must live through this hell too. For them. For us. And most importantly, yourself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trial after trial... If I had been in Aylin's shoes, I'm not sure I would have the strength to keep going. Will her strength see her through? Or will she cave as the weight of reality hits her full force? Stay tuned for the next installment! Until next time everyone.


	19. Beacon

                I’m back at the hospital that evening, and the scene can only be described by one word: morbid. There’s a stench of death prevalent in the air that had been present since the day I returned home from the Elder’s hidden home high above the village, but it is now a hundred times more powerful. The worried look on the medical ninjas faces tells me one thing: even Lady Chiyo, in her infinite wisdom of poisons and antidotes, could not successfully find a cure either.

                “M-my lady!” One of the ninjas halts me when I attempt to go into the hall where Kankuro’s room was located. I raise an eyebrow, peeved that someone had the audacity to stop me when his life could literally be seconds away from ending. “Begging your pardon, but perhaps it is best if you do not venture to see Lord Kankuro. He’s-“

                A ringing cry of torture erupts from his room, and my stomach plummets even deeper. Oh gods. The poor man.

                “Thank you for your concern on my behalf, but I must tend to my brother-in-law.” I brush past him with a less than polite look on my face. Spirits be damned if I played this game of etiquette with them a moment longer. Pleasantries would have to wait until Kankuro was saved and Gaara returned home alive and in one piece. “Seeing as no one else can end his miseries, I must at least attempt to do so myself.”

               Kankuro’s writhing form hits me like a brick to the abdomen. His skin is even more pallid, almost to the point of being translucent. His breathing is so ragged, so labored, I’m afraid that any moment his lungs will no longer bear this terrible strain and he will cease to take a breath on this earth again.

               He was fading. Dying. Suffering with no one to save him.

                “Why you?” I weep against his side, hands wrapped against his hand and forearm as I slump on the floor in utter defeat. “Why him? Whenever I was suffering, someone was there to end it. Why can’t I repay this debt I owe to you all? What did any of you to deserve this, and not me? Please gods,” My screams are muffled by the sheet beneath his body soon to be just a corpse. “Let me suffer in their stead. Please… Please!”

                “I’m sorry, girl.” I do not budge under the sound of Lady Chiyo’s voice drifting into the room from somewhere behind me. “There is nothing I can do, as much as I hate to admit it to a brat like you. That councilman said they’ve sent for people from the Leaf, a medical specialist too, so I suppose we should see if they honor our alliance and actually send someone of merit or this young man will be dead by the time morning breaks.”

                “Konoha?” I lift my head and stare at the wall with a look of broken hope. Oh gods. Kiba. All the shinobi these siblings were familiar with. Surely one of them could come to pull us out of this time of terror! “Will they truly come to aid us?”

                A dry chuckle from Ebizo. “Seeing as they are our only hope, let us pray it will be so.”

                And they do. The shinobi from the Leaf come to our rescue at long last.

                “Kankuro!” Temari’s voice slices through the air like an arrow of hope and light. There’s a clatter of footsteps, and one set is hurrying to the bedside near where I was still slumped, half aware of everything passing me by in the world a few hours later. A hand soon smooths across my back, and I glance up to see her frantic features staring down at me. “Aylin, you were here too?”

                “Temari.” My eyes fill with tears as she hugs me tight. “You’re home. Thank the gods.”

                She gives a half-hearted sound of agreement. “And not a moment too late it seems.”

                There’s an eruption of noise in the room behind us. I hear Chiyo screeching something, then a loud pop of bodies colliding, and one suddenly sliding on the floor towards us. There’s a small curse from Orthos and Tala, a growl from a voice I was completely unfamiliar with, then a light-hearted sound trying to coerce the tense situation from yet another foreign voice. The tension comes to a sudden halt as Ebizo relays something to his sister, and Chiyo’s obnoxious laugh rings through the air.

                Kankuro’s seizing not a moment later, and we’re all sent into panic mode. “I’ll need you to move.” I turn my head to see a strange woman with light pink hair standing over me, her green eyes serious as they remain on the man dying inches away from me. “Now.”

                I scramble across the floor and to my feet. Temari’s at her brother’s side, and it feels wrong for me to watch on. A quiet comment is given from someone in the back of the room for us to vacate it until the woman- now presumably a medical specialist from the Leaf- has finished her work, and a small group of us furtively make our way out as Kankuro’s gurgled screams continue to ring loudly in the air.

                “Are you alright, milady?” Tala comes to examine me as she and Orthos position themselves on either side of my standing form. “Did that Leaf ninja lay a hand on you?”

                I give her a heavy look of chastisement. “No, Tala. She merely asked me to move. And I would advise you to watch your words.” I dip my head to the blond-haired guy probably no older than me and the gray-haired man both sitting on the bench also holding the village elders. “For we are still in the presence of some of our allies from this precious country we are now very much indebted to.”

                Chiyo scoffs from her spot a few spaces down. “Your husband would be proud to hear you speak in such a manner.”

                “Huh?!” The blond’s blue eyes blink in disbelief when they land on me. “Are you married to Kankuro by any chance?”

                A tiny smile. “No. To his brother.”

                The blond leaps up to his feet in my direction, but Orthos is quick to halt him with a brute grab of the blonde’s outstretched arm. “How dare you attempt to lay a hand on our lady, Leaf scum.” He growls, his dark eyes burning with burning rage. Tala’s placed herself in front of me, her rigid stance ready to strike as well. “You will dip your head when you acknowledge her and call her Lady Aylin or you will not dare utter a single word to her. Am I clear?”

                “Orthos!” I shout, pushing Tala out of the way so that I could get around the broad man himself. He and the blond both give me a look when I tug his arm back with both of mine, releasing the painful hold he had on this shinobi from a land other than our own. “There will be no violence. None at all. Do you hear me? These shinobi have come to aid us- to bring Lord Kazekage back to us. So if you lift a hand to this young man, you lift a hand to my beloved and me in turn.”

                It takes a moment, but Orthos finally lowers his hand. Once he’s stepped back, the guard gives me a look that’s apologetic and a little surprised. “Forgive me, milady.” He kneels on the floor, head dipped downwards in utter fealty. “Such a thing will never happen again. I swear that I will watch my actions from this point onward.”

                “Thank you.” I breathe a lengthy sigh of relief before offering a small smile to the blond. “You must excuse us. We are all running on fumes these last few days, and it is hard at times to keep our wits about us.”

                He just continues to blink in shock. “No way. No _freaking_ way. I just-“ He shakes his head and gives me a slow look over. “Are you really married to Gaara?”

                A small, tense smile tightens my features. “Betrothed would be more accurate but yes.” My smile wobbles. “He is my intended.” A slow, curious sweep of my eyes over his features. And that’s when it clicks. Blond hair, whiskered cheeks, a joking but warm aura that could save anyone from darkness like the sun breaking the night’s hold… Could this really be him? “Though you must have not been home to hear the news, Naruto Uzamaki.”

                He stumbles back a few steps. “How’d you know my name?!”

                A giggle is released beneath the cover of a demurely lifted hand. “Gaara spoke of you often.” I lower my hand to give him a melancholy grin as the look on his face changes to something a little more emotional. “So knowing you are here in his time of need truly lifts a weight from my chest.”

                There’s a sudden flurry of movements as the medical ninjas exit the room in a hurry. My heart’s in my throat again, and I can only stare at the doorway and wonder if there is something to place hope in or if it is all for naught. Please, let us all linger on this planet together. Let them be saved.

                “Don’t worry.” I jerk my head to see Naruto giving me a grin as well as a thumb’s up. “Sakura’s one of the best. She’ll do her best to save Kankuro.”

                _But will her best be enough?_ I can’t help but be skeptical. _We’re running out of time._

I merely offer him a smile and excuse myself back to the wall. My hands are clasped together in silent prayer as the medical ninjas return a few minutes later with a cartload of items, and I press my lips to them and hope every ounce of my prayers reach these people who I loved so dearly. Tala and Orthos remain silent on either side of me, and it’s a serious, somber moment when everyone in earshot seems to be holding their breath and hoping for the best.

                But as evening fell and my heart began to falter, the pained cries Kankuro emitted come to a soft halt, and for the first time in hours, it’s silent. My dry eyes can produce no more tears as much as my soul ached to weep. Was it all for naught?

                “He’s saved.” One of the medical ninja steps out and announces the news with obvious delight as the pink-haired ninja exits with another assistant in tow. “There is still a small remnant of poison in his system, but there will be an antidote made soon enough to rid him of it completely. Lord Kankuro will live.”

                A murmur of relief and happy conversations break out all around me. I can feel my soul soaring in delight, but my body is too weak to shoulder the emotional reaction. Oh gods, I was so badly weakened by days of little sleep and even less sustenance. The words Orthos offers to me warp inside my ears, and the hallway around me starts to sway and fill with tiny black dots that multiply endlessly.

                “Milady!” I can make out Tala’s shout of my title as I slump to the floor, feeble and fatigued beyond measure, but nothing more.

                I’m struggling to breathe easily as the world continues to sway. All of my muscles are useless, drained of any reserve of strength they had once been relying on, and I’m shivering. Weak. Tired. Oh gods, so terribly exhausted I could sleep for a whole week- no, a whole month.

                Something is forced into my mouth, and I’m forced to crush the small pill in a few slow chews. The sugar rushes into my system, stills the faint that almost knocked me unconscious, and gives my body the energy it so craved to remain awake and alert. I lean my head back with a trembling sigh. Oh gods, how blissful it felt to have something to eat for the first time in over a day.

                Orthos dabs at my sweat-laced face with a handkerchief he’s fished out of his tunic. “Milady, are you alright?”

                “Yes.” I manage in between breaths. “I’m fine.”

                Tala frowns as she kneels to my right. “You are anything but. You have been foolish to push yourself into such a state. I will be stricter with you in the future when you refuse food or drink.”

                “Help me up.” I beg. “I wish to see Kuro.”

                The man’s conscious when we enter. He’s sweeping his gaze across the ceiling, eyes narrow and squinting as they try to remain open. Temari’s on his left, holding his hand and looking like the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders. Her teal eyes lift to me after a moment of gently speaking to her brother and she beckons me over with a tiny smile.

                “Kuro.” I press a kiss to his brow and squeeze his hand under both of my own. “Thank the gods. You’re still with us.”

                A pained wheeze is all he can manage at first. “Aylin…” He heaves for air just from uttering my name. “Where did you go?”

                “I’ve been by your side all this time.” I reassure him softly. “And Temari is back now too. So rest at ease. This family of ours will not be broken any time soon.”

                He closes his eyes for a moment and smacks his bone-dry lips together. “Sorry… so sorry.”

                “No apologies, dummy.” Temari says, but her eyes are on me. “Not now or ever, or I’ll kick your ass into the next dimension. You hear me?”

                A painful smile is all he can manage in response.

                “Try to rest, Kuro.” I smooth a hand over his cheek. “Your body has been terribly weakened. You need strength to rebuild yourself.”

                 “Aylin’s right.” His sister echoes with her own concerned agreement. “Sakura’s mixing up a tea for your moronic self, so best thing to do is close those ugly eyes of yours and snore away the rest of the day.”

                He’s asleep not long afterwards, and we all breathe a small sigh of relief. Temari looks at me, then gestures to the doorway outside. It seemed she wished to talk. My heart plummeted. I could only guess as to what.

                We excuse ourselves a short distance down the hallway from where the Leaf shinobi, my guards, and the elder siblings are all still situated. She crosses her arms tightly against her chest, bites down on her lip, and looks like she’s either going to be sick or cry. I look at my feet and try not to do either myself. Gaara was still gone. And with each passing hour, the worries that such a sentiment would remain unable to rectify grew.

                “This wasn’t how any of this was supposed to go.” Her weak, almost childish refusal to accept the situation as it is makes my chest ache even stronger than before. “You were coming home, Gaara would get off his fucking high-horse, and everything would go back to the way it should have been. We all would finally have some happiness. But this… this…” I hear her pause to take a painful breath in and out. “How could any of us have seen this coming?”

                I frown. “We couldn’t. Other than Gaara, I suppose. And he did what he thought best. He saved us all. Though I wish, from the bottom of my heart, that it wasn’t the price he had to pay to have such a means reached. And worst of all is that no one cares for his sacrifice.” My eyes burn with loathing tears. I ball my hands into tight fists. “They’re all out there, living their lives, planning for the future, and we’re…” I have to pause as the bile rises within me. The vision of Gaara’s lifeless body being sealed away in a tomb for all of time just won’t pass. It sticks, haunting me as the minutes tick away and it becomes a clearer reality for this whole ordeal than actually saving him alive. “We’re stuck praying, wishing, waiting, for any future but this one. It’s cruel.” I sob. “So terribly, unbearably cruel. I hate feeling this hopeless. I hate it.”

                She says nothing. Not that there was anything I wished to hear her utter in those moments. All we both wanted was for Gaara to return. But that wish seemed to be as impossible to grant without magic as all those tales I once so lovingly retold to the man who stolen my heart before I even knew it.

                “They haven’t been alerted.” I jerk my head up to meet her painful frown. “To save the village from pandemonium, and from other countries taking this news to their advantage, the council has kept news of Gaara’s abduction under lock and key. We’re the only ones who know. We’re the only ones who will suffer for his sake.”

                I lift my hands to my lips. “Oh gods.” It all made sense now. The village, blissful in its own ignorance, went on as it always had. Because to them, the danger was over. The threat was eliminated. But oh cosmos, how wrong they were. “And they won’t know, will they?”

                Her eyebrows knit together. “Not unless another leader will have to be chosen to take Gaara’s place. I’m sorry, Aylin.” I can hear the sobs threatening to choke even this usually cold woman. “That you’ve been forced into this whole ordeal. That the two of you always have to suffer for one another.”

                “Don’t worry about me.” I shake my head. “For I would suffer a thousand tortures every hour of every day if it meant Gaara was alive and well. This love within me,” I rest a hand over my heart and dip my chin as the screaming organ batters against my rib cage. “Has nothing to do with me and everything to do with him.”

                I return home for a short time that afternoon. Tala sits with me in the sitting room again, fingers curling through my hair, as Orthos goes to fetch us all dinner. It’s hard to feel anything. Not because I don’t wish to, but there is far too many emotions vying to be acknowledged. There was relief that Kankuro had been saved and Temari returned home. Gratitude that these people from the Leaf had come to us in our time of need. Frustration that things could not be set right, even now. And sadness. Aching, festering grief that Gaara would be forgotten-that his story, at the pinnacle of its development, would be wiped away for all of time. An existence so void of love that ached to be needed, to be respected not feared, would never see its wishes granted.

                The food passes blandly down my throat. I couldn’t even tell you what we were eating, what it smelled like, or if the dishes were hot or cold. The tea is just as flavorless, though the slight aroma of it wafts into my clogged nostrils and lingers. Flowers. Sunshine. Joy. Things I felt so wrong conjuring in my mind when the man I loved more than life itself was seeing hell in all its horrendous glory right before his eyes.

                We return to the hospital. Orthos has offered for us to go and stay at his home tonight, but I do not wish to be around anyone. Not my guards. Not even Uncle. All I want is Gaara. My whole being ached for him so painfully that the act of tearing away my own skin would not faze me in the slightest. I see him everywhere now. He was walking down the streets beside me, shoulders lifted tensely in nervousness as we ambled side by side the first few weeks after our betrothal. The way he would gaze into the night sky with me, seafoam eyes missing nothing as they swept from one corner of the cosmos to another. The calm look of pride on his face as he watched the villagers go about their daily routines. His softened gaze when those beautiful irises came to land upon me as the love between us bloomed.

                But he was not here.

                And I feared when he did return it would be in a body bag, cold and lifeless to the touch, never to feel the scorching heat of the desert sun on his pale cheeks nor to feel the grains of sand brush against his fingertips.

                If that day came- when that day came, more likely- I would shortly join him. My soul knew it to be true, as did my weary body. Life meant nothing without him beside me. For how could one person live missing the most vital part of themselves?

                Kankuro’s resting when I come in by myself, Tala and Orthos unwillingly absent as they obeyed my wishes. I settle beside him on the cot, ignoring the stares of everyone still in the room, and dip my head, so weary that I don’t want to think anymore. There’s a hand smoothing across my back soon, and I try not to weep as Temari’s consoling touch registers. It would only be the three of us from here on out.

                “Have you eaten?” She asks softly.

                I nod once.

               “Have you slept?”

               No response this time.

               She sighs. “I see. Kankuro’s staying here overnight just for safety precautions. He’s taken the tea and all the toxins should have cleared by now. Tomorrow, we’ll go home.” Her hand curls around my shoulder. “Come stay with us, hm?”

                “Why?” I whisper.

                “Because,” Her own voice softens. “We’re family. And we need to stay together in times like this.”

                My head dips even lower. Family, hm? Well, after this whole ordeal occurring, it was hard to think of us as strangers any longer. “Alright.”

                Kankuro wakes halfway through the night in a panic. Temari’s sleeping slumped against a wall nearby, so she doesn’t react as quickly as I do from my position on the floor just beside his cot with my hand resting with his own, awake but barely conscious. He’s shouting for Gaara, for help, and it takes some time for us both to coax him out of his spell. The tears pool in his eyes as I dab a damp cloth against his sweat-drenched brow. He looks like he’s seen a ghost. An apparition, we all knew, took on the form of his little brother.

                He’s sobbing not long afterwards. “Damn it.” He curses, eyes screwed shut as the grief hits him full force. “I have to find him. I have to-“

                “Shh, Kuro. Be calm.” I soothe him, dabbing at his face as he continues to weep. “Have faith in the ninjas from Konoha. Let them find Gaara. For we cannot afford to put you back at death’s door so soon after your miraculous recovery.”

                I lay on the cot against his side with my head curled against his shoulder after he’s begged for me to not leave him. Temari’s settled back against the wall, looking like she’s seen a ghost herself as her teal eyes burning a hole into the nothingness that darkened the room around us. We’ve all seen him. Remembered him. And all these ill omens make it feel as if Gaara will only haunt us from these moments onward.

                It’s a few hours before dawn when I excuse myself. Temari’s asleep, as is Kankuro, but I cannot rest. The moment I close my eyes is the moment everything will end. I can feel it.

                I return home, brush my hair, put on a fresh gown, and amble over to the inn where the group from Konoha is staying. I wait just outside, form supported by the building I’m leaning against, and hope I don’t look as terrible as I feel. No; I try not to laugh. Maybe I should look the part. I didn’t want to hide my grieving- to pretend to be anything but broken.

                “Ah. Lady Aylin.” I jolt as the sound of the gray-haired leader processes on my unsuspecting mind. The three of them are around me now- Naruto, the pink-haired woman who saved Kankuro’s life, and the masked man who appears to be smiling at me. “Were you waiting on us?”

                I offer a tense smile. “Forgive me for ambushing you upon your exit of the inn. I merely wished to have a word with Mister Uzamaki if the time allows it.”

                “We’ll meet you by the entrance to the village.” The gray haired man is speaking to the blond now. “And we’ll take off from there.”

                A disgruntled agreement from the man in question. I could tell he was anxious to get on their way and did not want to appease me. But when his blue eyes fall on my face, he offers a friendly smile. “So?”

                I gesture that we walk along after the other two make their departure, and we begin to walk in the direction of the entrance ourselves. It’s hard to find the words. What to say, or more importantly, how to say it. Gaara admired this man- looked up to him. And for him not be present to speak the words I’m sure he wished to this man who saved him all those years ago puts me on the verge of weeping again.

                “I’m glad.” Naruto says before I can find my words. I turn to look at him, blinking in shock for his almost relieved comment, and he gives a tiny smile. “That Gaara found someone he loves. And who loves him in return.”

                The tears fill my eyes thanks to his genuine gratitude. My lips wobble, and I have to press a hand to both my eyes to keep the tears I’ve locked away from emerging. “He deserved it, though I’m sure you already knew that.” I smile lightly as he nods. “He always spoke so fondly of you, Naruto. That you were a breath of life when he was drowning in his dark, suffocating bog of misery. That you were the long-awaited dawn after a painful stretch of darkness he feared would go on for all of eternity.”

                He scratches at the back of his head. “Did he really say something like that?”

                “He did.” I reassure him softly. “You are Gaara’s guide post and most precious friend. For you understand him far better than I or anyone else ever could. Do not worry.” I’m not sure if he is worried about Gaara confessing to me the details of the demon that lingered within him too, so I opt to be cautious. “What my beloved tells me is kept between us. I know of what bonds you. And I know you do not expect to hear this, nor wish to hear it, but I am glad you have gone through what he had. Because he would have been lost to me- been lost to us forever had that not been the case.”

                “And he’s important to me.” A look of zealous resolve reverberates in those azure irises. “I won’t let him die a monster’s death. I won’t let this world do what they want to him. He’s been alone for so long.” He grits his teeth. “And to finally have something- to have someone who treasures him so dearly… It really ticks me off to see this happening.”

                I look at the sand before us and say nothing for a short while. The village begins to dwindle, and soon, we are at the cusp of the great wall that encircled our home- the place Gaara protected with every ounce of his being for almost two years now. The tears fill my eyes as the thought of lingering here now filled me with remorse. For a person who never wished to be tethered to anything for the majority of her life, I knew how precious and powerful this sentiment of wanting to remain really was.

                “Please save him.” I whisper, no longer able to restrain my tears. I lift my hands to my face and weep. Weep like the heartbroken, worried, panicked mess I was deep down. “Please bring my Gaara back to me.”

                A hand kindly rests upon my head. “Don’t worry. I’ll bring him back to you safe and sound. So try not to cry too much until then, hm? Cuz Gaara will sure to be upset if he hears his woman’s been weeping when he’s welcomed home.”

                I can only weep on for a few moments. “Thank you, Naruto.” I drop my hands and give him a look of hopeful trust and weary pleading. “Thank you.”

                He grins before rubbing nervously at the back of his head. “Don’t thank me yet. But I’ll be sure to hear you say so when we get back with Gaara.”

                And with that, he dashes through the narrow gap between the rock walls, and I’m left frozen as that the last warm ray of hope I had is sent along with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all of you who are reading. I hope your holiday season brought you a little joy one way or another. It's been a gift for me to see all the people who have read any of my fics this year. It really brightens my day to hear when you really enjoy them. Until next time!


	20. Drowning

               The rest of the day is a blur.

                I return back to the hospital to find Tala and Orthos scouring the building for me. There’s a heavy chastisement from them when Temari admitted to not knowing where I went, and I can only offer an emotionless apology in reply. The guards share a look, and they know. They know I’ve gone hollow inside.

               Kankuro’s weak but finally able bodied enough to return home to recuperate further. Orthos helps support him as the five of us all traverse through the village back to the sand sib’s home, and it’s a somber scene. Temari walks along beside her brother, but she turns her head more than a dozen times to glance back at me as I slowly keep pace a few feet behind them with Tala. Even she’s worried. But I’m too exhausted to try to put on a mask and have strength to move forward.

               “Go home.” I murmur to Tala and Orthos once we’ve safely reached our destination. They both jump to negate me, but I lift a hand to silence them. I can feel my face pinch with exhaustion and irritation; why was everyone trying to coddle me? “Please. Just leave me alone. Your wife misses you, Orthos, and Uncle will need someone to keep him company too, Tala. I’m needed here.” I sweep my dry, weary eyes over their worried faces. “So do as I ask and do not come for me. Am I clear?”

                They want to say no. They want to argue that I’m killing myself by pushing this mortal body of mine any further. But they dip into the sand, words of agreement and fealty falling almost reluctantly from their lips, and then they’re gone.

                “Aylin.” Kankuro beckons for me once we’ve ambled down into the lower floor of the spacious mansion of sorts. “Stay with me. Rest. You have bags under your eyes. Deep ones."

               All of my attention has been honed in on examining the layout of the hallway. Four rooms. One is Gaara’s. My chest aches. I want to see it. To smell him. To remember that he was a tangible, real person that lingered here permanently. But instead I offer a hollow nod and the option to do just that disappears.

               Kankuro holds me close on his bed in the darkened room lined with puppets of every sort on the walls. I know he means nothing intimate by the gesture. It’s a consoling action to remind me that I wasn’t alone. My head rests against his chest and measures his steady heartbeat as it pounds under my ear. I can’t help but wonder if Gaara’s is still beating at this very moment. The tears spill down my chilled cheeks as I’m tugged into an exhausted sleep almost three days overdue.

                When I wake, I’m disoriented. There’s a medicine patch glued to my forehead, and a heavy blanket pulled almost up to my neck. My whole body aches. I’m weak and frozen to my core.

                Ill. My eyes shut as the weariness pulls me under again. I had fallen ill.

**

                “I wouldn’t, if I were you. Leave her be.” The grumbled comment from Kankuro echoes in my ears. “She’s fevered. Badly so. Besides, she better off here with us. We can protect her.”

                “Are you insinuating that we can’t?” A hotheaded quip from Tala. I want to groan. Gods, why did everyone have to be so loud? “We are her guards. Lord Kazekage-”

                “Isn’t here.” He puts in with an edge of sadness and aggravation. “So we have to do our part to care for her in his stead. Just go home. Both of you. Aylin doesn’t need people breathing down her neck right now. When she wants you- if she wants you- we’ll come find you.”

                “But-” Tala sounds uncommonly frail now. “She’s so weak. I don’t want to…”

                A long, descending sigh of defeat promptly follows.

                 “Come along, Tala.” Orthos’ consoling comment drifts into the silence. “Let’s not start a fight our lady does not wish us to take up on her behalf.” A small grunt. “Watch over her well. But if I find for one moment you are trying to advance yourself in the place of our lord-”

                A half-amused snort. “You really think I have intentions of romance at a time like this? Please. Aylin’s heart belongs to my brother. And I intend on having it remain that way until we know it to be completely impossible.”

                “And then you will offer her yours in his stead.” Tala puts in, also wary of this man who obviously meant me well. “Am I wrong?”

                Another long, weary sigh. “Let’s not talk of action until we know of Gaara’s condition.” My stomach drops. Maybe I was the only fool here after all. “Go on now. Before I really lose my temper and wake Aylin as we all bicker for no good reason.”

                 I tumble back into sleep as the three move away to another part of the house. My dreams are chaotic. Cruel. I see Gaara die a thousand deaths, each one more gruesome and agonizing than the last. He screams for help, seafoam eyes wide as he suffers endlessly, and as much as I scream and reach my hands out to him, the darkness swallows him whole and begins the cycle all over again.

                “Shhh, Aylin. Shhh.” Kankuro’s nearby. I feel one of his hands on my cheek and the other on my arm. “It’s just a dream. Open your eyes. Can you hear me? It’s just a dream.”

                A frail whimper is all I can manage as the terror tethering me to the mattress reigns supreme for another minute longer. My eyes are swollen, painful and stinging from what was sure to be a heavy torrent of nightmare-induced tears, and my throat is not in any better condition. Everything still aches. I’m cold. Frightened. Alone. Even with Kankuro here, I feel like there is nothing left to save or soothe me in this world.

                “You ok?” His face is pinched in an overly concerned frown. He smooths a hand back against my forehead, sweeping away the loose tendrils of hair that have spilled over my face. I avert my gaze to the wall and say nothing. He clicks his tongue. “Yeah, stupid question. Remind me not to ask you again.”

                I remain silent. It’s just hard to find the words, but one thing is certain: Gaara hasn’t returned. My heart ceases to beat. Any hour now they would come and alert us that they had found his body. And the world would be turned on its head for the entire village then.

                “Were you having nightmares? About him?”

                The tears return to my eyes. I want to laugh. There were still tears to be shed? Gods knew I had wept an ocean these past few days.

                He groans. “Again, stupid question. Way to go Kuro. You’re two for two. Well,” He stands to his feet with a languid sigh. “Let me go get you some food. Oh, by the way, if the room looks unfamiliar to you, don’t worry. You’re in Mari’s room now. She’s been sent on patrol so she thought you’d be more comfortable here than in my room. Not that I can blame her.” A dry chuckle. “Waking up and staring straight at a puppet can flip some people out.”

                No response from me. I look at Temari’s immaculately kept room, brightened by a few small feminine touches, and feel nothing. All I want is to be in Gaara’s room. But I knew as well as they did that putting me in that place might very well trigger more horrible things upon my mind that bring back wonderful memories.

                Memories. I want to weep in defeat. Was that all Gaara would ever amount to? Some fragments of time long gone that would one day fade as I continued to age and he did not?

                I don’t want to lay around here any longer. My arms shake as I push myself from the bed, and my legs are just as weak as I stand to my full height. I hug my arms close to my body, ignoring the pain, the chills, and the urge to sleep forever as I trudge out of the room and into the hall. It was right to suffer. I wanted to suffer.

                It’s the first room on the hall at a diagonal from Kankuro’s bedroom. I nudge the door open, and it’s just like I expected. Neatly made bed with the corners all tucked in and the edge nearest to the few pillows pulled back a solid inch. A few bookshelves all lined with books of every sort, a small desk with neat stacks of paper, bound ledgers, and a variety of inks and pens to one side.

                But then I see Tolka on the bedside table a few feet away and I’m sobbing uncontrollably. The little owl is sitting on top of the large collection of fairy tales I had given him at the beginning of our betrothal, looking like he had been cared for so greatly in the time since I had given him to Gaara. I kneel beside the table and take the stuffed bird into my arms, weeping as I imagined the man I loved so much sitting in this room, holding him and remembering me every evening since the item had been in his possession.

                There’s a clink in the room behind me, and I quiet my grieving lament as Kankuro continues his muted movements around the room. I wonder if he’s angry that I’ve ambled in here on my own accord. But he says nothing. I hold Tolka closer. It must be painful for him too to be in this place and remember his brother.

                “What was Gaara like,” I whisper, afraid that if I spoke any louder, I’d disrupt the volatile state we were both in and ruin everything. “When he was here with you?”

                A long sigh escapes his lips. “To be honest, he didn’t live with us until about six years ago. When we were younger, our father had him kept away to protect us all. Gaara was unstable. Too weak in body and spirit to reign over Shukaku fully. And we didn’t want him near us even if that had been the case. We hated him. Hated that we bore the same blood as him and had to be associated with him when he lost control and hurt innocent people.” He pauses. “But when he was here, it wasn’t much different. He kept to himself. Stole one of our rooms upstairs to build himself a little cactus oasis, but other than that, he stayed down here or in there and did as he pleased. Then he got the idea to become Kazekage, and he started opening up to us- wanting us to support him and vice versa. And then you came along and he…” A bemused snort. “He started having expressions I never seen him have in the eighteen years he’d been my brother. Some days he’d tote that little bird you have in your hands along in his vest as he went about his day, not at all embarrassed to have Mari or me see it. He really loved you, Aylin.” That soft comment threatens to have me weeping uncontrollably again. “And I wish you could have seen those things for yourself.”

                Gods, how badly I wished I could have seen them too. We were supposed to be happy. We had been tested and had finally come out victorious. Then why? Why steal this joy from us when we worked so hard to win it back?

                “I’ll leave you be.” I hear his padded footsteps retreating to the door now. “There’s some food on the table whenever you’re ready to eat. But there’s no rush. Sit here for as long as you want. Sleep here for all I care. It’s getting late. Your body needs more rest.”

                He shuts the door softly behind him. Tolka’s pressed against my chest, and I’m so terribly broken by my own grief that I can’t do anything but weep in silence for a long time following. I could hear it in Kankuro’s words- in the verbs he used. He thought Gaara dead. He knew it to be an impossible hope of ever seeing him again in this lifetime.

                I clamber up onto the bed and press my nose into his pillow. It smelled like him. Like earth, sky, and sunshine all enveloped in one masculine scent. It ignites a war within me, and I screw my eyes shut, sickened by my inability to do anything but be swept bare by these emotions rampant within me. Nothing made sense. Nothing brought clarity. It was a maddening, sickening cycle of doubt, grief, and frail hope growing frailer by the minute.

**

                I dream of Gaara and find myself wishing for nightmares instead.

                For these are visions. Blissfully happy ones. Ones that showcased various life moments we could have shared had he still been living.

               An intimate walk across the desert bare footed and hand in hand before dawn broke. Gaara’s telling a story, one that warms me straight to the core. Then a vision of him slowly smoothing his hands over my protruding belly, whispering something to our child yet to be born as his eyes gaze upon me with a look of awe, love, and pride that we were bringing a new life into this world- a child who would know love and acceptance no matter the circumstances. A tiny hand in my own, and one in Gaara’s as we swung our child up and over a small dune of sand, it’s laughter ringing as we went along on our way.

               We could have had it. That future fraught with happiness. But I suppose some people just never get to be happy in this lifetime. And I believed, the more you wished for good upon other people, the less good came to you personally. For you squandered your own happiness in the place of theirs.

               I open the book of fables I’d once given him, only to blink as a neatly kept envelope slips out from between some of the pages. I think it to merely be a bookmarker or the like for where he had ended his last read, or perhaps to mark a fable he particularly enjoyed, but when I turn it over to read my name on the front, my heart is torn to tiny pieces. Had he been meaning to give this to me? Or had it been something he had written once he thought the two of us no longer joined by our betrothal?

               Knowing it wouldn’t matter either way with his return less and less likely with each passing second, I break open the envelope and gingerly unfold the two pages of text in his own hand. My arms tremble, my eyes blur with tears, and for a moment, reading this personal piece proves to be impossible. But I have to do it. I must. For this may very well be the only part of Gaara I could hold onto for the rest of time.

                **My dearest Aylin,**

**As I sit here in Konoha watching the rain patter against the windowsill of our inn room, I cannot help but ache for you like the desert aching for a spell of water. For you quench my spirit in ways no one else has ever done before. From the moment I first laid my eyes on you, I found myself almost in a trance. You carried yourself like no other: your eyes were warm and ready to dance with the light of day, your mind sharp but not pointed in pride or derision when you spoke to someone, and you heart- oh, that lovely, angelic heart within you- that could look upon the darkest of souls and draw out its hidden light to shine for all of time.**

**I could speak a thousand praises of you each day for a hundred years and never do you justice. For you sustained me. You loved me when you could have very well chosen any man on the face of this planet to give your love to. Gods only know what I did to deserve a woman like you. But I will cherish you. I will adore you for as long as time allows this union between us to continue.**

**I was wrong for thinking this betrothal between us to be an ill omen. For you truly are my intended. My other half. The light that beckons me forward, that guides my feet when the darkness blanketing my eyes threatens to lead me astray. The beating heart within me that feels my joy, sorrows, and fears just as easily as I do.**

**Do you know that I cannot pinpoint the exact moment I fell in love with you? Was it the time you first told me a tale, your body trembling from a nightmarish spell, and there was no fear in your eyes to speak to me as if we were two friends of old? Was it the time you returned back to the inn after dining with my brother in Konoha, looking like a goddess sprung from the moonlight dancing on your lovely locks cascading loosely down your shoulders? Was it the time you tumbled down that hill, panicked and tormented by the demon unwillingly harbored within you too, and I held you in my arms with an urge to never let you go again? Or the time after our betrothal when you smiled at me, spoke to me, and touched me with such tenderness I understood the mysteries of the universe once withheld from my soul?**

**Regardless of when, all I know is this: I love you, Aylin. Every inch of you, inside and out. For there is no one on this earth like you. And I am lucky- oh gods, so unbelievably lucky- to spend the rest of eternity with you by my side.**

**Yours forever and a day,**

        **Gaara**

                The letter shakes in my hands. He had written this for me. These words had flowed out from his heart and onto paper to be transcribed for all of time.

                This love of mine had saved him at the time. But oh gods, how wrong he had been. This love was no beautiful thing. It truly was an ill omen. One that tore us away from each other time and time again to be beaten, bloodied, and broken until we could never think of loving each other again.

                A knock at the door. “Aylin? Are you awake?”

                Kankuro opens the door regardless. He sees me sitting with Gaara’s letter hanging limply in one of my hands against my lap and says nothing. There’s a tray in his hands. He’s brought me food again. My eyes lift to the untouched meal from the night before. I still wasn’t hungry. I was beginning to believe I never would be again.

                “Eat.” He sits on the edge of the bed and pushes the tray closer to where I was. There’s a small bowl of rice, some spiced meat, and some kind of stewed vegetables. Normally I would have been enticed by such a well-balanced meal, but I can’t feel anything. Like the desert swept bare after a terrible sandstorm, I was disoriented and unable to find my center again. “Come on, Aylin. Don’t make me force this down your throat. You need food. You need to live.”

                My hands tremble. The letter begins to crumple under my tightened grip. “Why?” I’m so full of loathing that I can’t restrain myself. “Why do I have to live? Gaara is dead!” I dip my head, throat clenching as the terrible, terrible statement echoes in this room- his room. “And I… I don’t want to be a world that he isn’t in.”

                “So what? You’ll kill yourself?” I flinch as his sharp words cut into me. He’s angry. Understandably so. “Is that what you think will fix all of this? I know it hurts, Aylin. Damn it, the pain in my heart right now is a hundred times worse than the pain inflicted by that poison I almost died from. But you have to keep going. There are still things to experience and life to be had. Don’t you think your uncle will crumble, knowing you faded right before his eyes? Or that Tala and Orthos will hate themselves forever for failing you when you needed them most? What about me and Mari? Hm? Don’t you care that we’ll be losing our little brother and you all in one fell swoop then?”

                I dip my head. The strength and resolve to continue just weren’t there. Gaara had my heart. Without it, how could I feel anything? How could I possibly find the will to live?

                “Just take it one day at a time.” He murmurs softly. “Cry, scream… let the grief run its course. But know that none of us will let you suffer alone. My shoulder’s here for you to cry on. I’m always ready to listen, even if you just want to spew a bunch of curses at me or the universe for letting this happen. But don’t give up. Tiny steps. All we’re asking you to take are tiny steps forward from here on out.”

                Ah yes. Tiny steps. Move on. Leave Gaara behind. I bite down on my lip. Did he not see how impossible that was to do?

                But he waits. Almost too patiently so. When I lift my eyes he gestures to the tray, not at all fazed by my prolonged period of being withdrawn, and I know he will not leave without having me eat. I fold the letter cautiously, place it back inside its envelope, and return this precious treasure of mine to the nightstand so that I can take the bowl of rice. A small praise falls from his lips as a tiny mouthful is nibbled upon, and he finally relaxes on the other side of the bed.

                “Good, huh?” He teases me gently as I move to take a larger mouthful now. I say nothing and chew slowly. “Not going to say anything to me, huh?” He sighs. “Well, no matter. You know I can talk up a storm before you could even get a word in edgewise.”

                 I gesture for the mug of tea on the tray and he hands it to me without qualm. “How..” My throat is so scratchy, and I force myself to take another sip of the lukewarm beverage. “How are you feeling?”

                “A little winded at times, but Sakura said it’s normal for a few days following.” He confesses evenly. “I'd rather be out on patrol myself, but they won’t clear me for missions for at least another week.”

                “And Temari? Is she still patrolling herself?”

                A half-hearted hum. “Yep. They’ve briefed all the factions of higher ranked shinobi as to the situation and prepared them for the worst. We have to halt any attempts at invasion or any skirmishes brought to the country at this time. She’s probably grumbling to herself about being stuck there instead of searching herself, but Mari’s the type to keep her emotions under lock and key. Especially at a time like this.”

                “You all… are so strong.” I frown. I was weak. I had always been weak. “Always moving, helping, and hoping. I feel… so useless.”

                He rests a hand on my cheek and allows his thumb to slowly rub against my cheekbone. The image of Gaara doing the same thing leaves me trembling. I would never know his touch again. “You did so much these last few days, dummy. Do you not remember? You kept everyone calm in the bunkers, you sacrificed sleep and time to stay by my side, and you put yourself last so all of us could try to find our center again. That means more than you can even imagine. You’ve aided us all, Aylin. You were our strength in times when we didn’t have any. So let us return the favor now that you have given all of you so selflessly.”

                I lower the piece of meat I was about to place into my mouth back onto the plate. Me, selfless? No. I was the most selfish person on the face of the planet. Moping and whining about what I wanted, putting up a childish fight when I didn’t want to do something I obviously knew was good for me… didn’t he see that?

                “I mean it.” He senses my self-loathing as if I had spoken those thoughts aloud. “That’s what makes you so unique, Aylin. You have a way of soothing people like no one else. People trust you- feel at ease around you. Gaara said it himself. He said it was the single most beautiful thing about you, the way you rejuvenated people like the spring sun after the winter’s frozen them hollow.”

                My heart squeezes. He had said something like that about me? Within earshot of his brother? Gods, that man. He was even more precious than I ever imagined him to be.

                I amble off the bed, take Tolka and the letter, and release a lengthy sigh. Kankuro’s turned on the bed so he can watch me closely. “Where are you going?”

                “To talk with my uncle.” I murmur, clutching my precious treasures close to my body. “And see if he has any wisdom to shed during this time of tragedy.”

                Kankuro hums as he stands to his feet. “Let me walk you over there. Nuh uh, missy.” He wiggles a finger when I try to tell him to stay and rest. He had only been home to recuperate himself for a day and a half now. “I’m perfectly capable of managing a walk. Let’s get going.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very happy new year to you all! I'm very happy to be continuing this tale into 2017. Thank you as always to everyone reading. Until next time!


	21. Dusk to Dawn

              Tala’s the first to open the door to Orthos’ home and crushes me in her arms as soon as she sees me. I find it hard to complete the gesture and just let her hold me as she mutters what was sure to be a mixture of relieved praises as well as curses for the predicament I’d put myself in. After a moment, she lets go and holds me at arms’ length, her heterochromatic gaze sweeping so carefully over my face it felt like she would miss nothing.

               “Aylin, you look horrid.” A tiny frown drags her lips downward. “Please do not harm yourself anymore. Come inside. Eat. Sleep. Please.”

                I sigh. “Thank you, but I’ve eaten and slept enough today. Is my uncle here? I wish to speak with him.”

                “He’s just inside, playing with Zaphir and Orthos’ youngest child.” She moves aside to let me in. I expect her to turn after me, but she’s staring at Kankuro. More like glaring if I’m being honest. “Are you coming in as well?”

               “Nope.” He turns on his heel and gives a half-hearted wave. “I have puppets to fix and things to do. Walk Aylin back if she wants to stay with me this evening.”

               “Insolent fool.” Tala grumbles, her glare sharpened to daggers as she watches him amble away looking more relaxed than I knew he actually was. Her eyes fall on me now, and the edge to them falls away completely. “Why I ever agreed to let you stay with him at all remains a mystery.”

                I force myself to smile. “Kankuro meant me no harm. I’ve slept and eaten thanks to him. So you should be grateful, Tala.”

                “I see.” She frowns. “Well, let’s not stand in the doorway chatting. Come in.”

                Zaphir holds me close, as does Orthos, and I know I’ve worried them all greatly. Their two oldest peek at me from the stairwell leading to the bottom floor of their decent sized home, whispering between each other as I nod or apologize to their parents for a plethora of things that have happened in the span of time since the village attack. I wonder how much they know. Not that I care. One day soon the whole village would know and there would be gossip everywhere.

                “Let me go fix you a bite to eat.” Zaphir smooths her hands down my arms in a motherly sort of gesture. Her blue eyes have a melancholy look about them. “You’ve turned to skin and bones, my dear. And there’s an unhealthy complexion to match.”

                “Thank you, but I just ate.” The look on her face assures me that she isn’t inclined to believe me. “Truly, Zaphir. All I wish for at the moment is to speak with my uncle. Can you direct me to where he is?”

                “He’ll be down in our youngest child’s room. Orthos, my love,” She places a hand on her husband’s defined bicep. “Show her the way, won’t you?”

                “Of course.” He places a kiss on his wife’s cheek. I’m green with envy. Gaara would place no kiss upon me again. The only kiss he’d have now himself was the kiss of death. “Come along, milady. He’s just this way.”

                I almost feel bad breaking the happy scene before me. Uncle is sitting on the floor with the child who could be no greater than six years old, making funny voices to match the almost humorous make believe scene passing between the dolls. The little girl is giggling, cheeks burning red with delight, as she makes a funny voice in return. I can’t help but see Marrah, his real daughter, who died at this age in her stead. How did he not weep seeing this child and remember his own burned to death almost a decade ago?

                “Nobu.” Uncle jerks his head up at sound of his name. His silver eyes gleam with a mixture of emotions as they take me in. I clench Tolka and the letter even closer to my chest. “Aylin’s returned. She wishes to speak with you.”

                He stands to his feet with a weary sigh. “Of course. I’m sorry, little one.” He ruffles the girl’s hair under one of his calloused hands as he walks away. “We’ll finish our game another time, hm?”

                Orthos is quick to appease his disappointed daughter as the two of us exit the room. Everyone here was happy. Happy until I arrived and soured the atmosphere. I frown. Maybe it was best if I didn’t come. Maybe it really was best to isolate myself and grieve.

                “I’ve missed you.” Uncle embraces me with tenderness once we’ve ambled into the kitchen. Tala and Zaphir have made themselves scarce. But I know by the steaming pot of tea and the plate full of little nut pastries left on the table that they’ve merely chosen not to impose on this delicate conversation. “Sit, my dear. You look like a slight breeze could snap you in two.”   

                I settle onto a stool and place my treasures into my lap. “How…” I dip my head, eyes burning with bitter tears. “How do I get over this grief? Please, Uncle. Tell me. For if anyone can shed light on the subject it is you.”

                He hums at length for a moment. “I am sorry, my dear, but there is no real answer to that. For each of us it is different. For we have felt different things, been touched in different ways by the people who no longer walk alongside us in this living realm. When Esen and my children passed, I was in disbelief at first. Surely they had smelled the fire and ran. Then there was anger and resentment that I could not protect my family nor stop such a thing from occurring. And sadness. Knowing I had to look upon your own broken face and see our worlds never to be as we envisioned it. It took time. It is still taking time.” His painful smile says it all. “For I think, as long as we live, we will grieve. Because we will always remember. Always. And it is a gift as much as it is a grievance to hold those things in our hearts and never experience them again in the same manner.”

                He was right. As long as I lived, Gaara would be inside of me. He would be what ached my chest, what filled my eyes with tears, and what reminded me that my being would never be complete now that he no longer remained on this planet. And I hated it. I hated that I had to accept it to have ended up this way.

                “I’ll always have him, won’t I?” My feeble question sounds so childish. So weepy. “Here, in my heart?”

                He rests a hand on my shoulder. “Yes, child. He will linger there until you too are called away to the other realm. And he will be waiting for you there. As will your parents, my wife, and your cousins. So do not think it to be completely hopeless. You will see each other again. For in that realm, both halves become whole again.”

                I tremble. Gods only knew how long that would be, or what would become of me by that point. Would I marry someone I didn’t love to keep the loneliness at bay? Would I bear another man’s child, warm his bed, and tend to his needs? I’m afraid. Afraid that Gaara would be angry with me if such a thing ever occurred.

                Or more importantly, I was terrified that he’d fade. That I would forget the most beautiful parts of him and there would be nothing to bring them back to me. Then he really would be gone. Fogged and forgotten as a new world without him ingrained itself to memory instead.

                “I don’t want to forget him.” I weep, already seeing the earliest visions I had of him becoming blurred and blurrier still. “Can’t we just rewind time and bring back to life the times we cherish the most?”

                “Such a thing goes against the logic of time and space, my dear, though I would gladly turn it back at any cost if it meant restoring your heart to you.” He grips my shoulder with some strength. “Truly, Aylin. For you have done nothing to deserve this. Nothing at all.”

                It’s a painful evening as I fall in and out of panic attacks, sessions of weeping, and outbursts of anger as I find myself unable to cope with my grief. Uncle and Tala escort me home when the sun set, knowing it was wrong to let my volatile state disrupt the environment of Orthos’ home. The man promises to be by with dinner and to remain on watch overnight. I can see in his eyes that he hates this. All of them do. But no words of fealty, no acts of bravery nor protection could give me what I desired most.

                The emotions leave me weak, and I collapse. There are no dreams. No nightmares. Just a deep, enveloping blanket of darkness that I feared would cover me all hours of the day. It snuffed out all hope, all love, all need for feeling.

                _Just sleep_. It beckoned, its sugary words coaxing me to drift deeper and deeper. _Sleep and-_

“My lady!”

                A brute shake of my shoulders pulls the deep blanket of sleep even farther away from me.

                 I groan, head rolling backwards as I tried to return to sleep. What now? Had they thought me in a coma?

                “Please Aylin, awaken!” Tala’s voice is shaking with delight. “Oh gods, which one of us should be the one to tell her?”

                Now I’m intrigued.

                I crack an eye open to see Orthos sitting on the bed beside me. I open the other and see Uncle’s arms wrapped around Tala as she beamed a grin that shone brightly even in the darkness of the room.

                “Tell me…” I smack my lips together and let out a long, weary yawn. “Tell me what?”

                Orthos offers a tiny smile. “Lord Kazekage’s returned. Alive.”

                I can’t process the words.

                Not for a few moments, at least.

                But when I do, my heart leaps to my throat, racing like a horse galloping across the dunes.

                Gaara. Alive. Home.

                Oh gods, how?

                How could such a thing be possible?

                “Hurry, hurry!” Orthos laughs as I weep. “There is no time for tears, milady! Change your gown, fix your hair. For he is coming home. He is coming home to you at long last. And we must welcome him, hm Tala?”

                She lets out a ringing laugh as she removes herself from my uncle’s embrace. “Indeed. Come, Aylin. Let me help you. Where is that mint gown you adore so much?” She ambles to my wardrobe and starts flinging things across the room in her hastened search. “Ack, it has a stain! How about the lavender one? Ah yes, perfect! Out you two!” She shoos my uncle and Orthos away with a hasty flick of her free hand. “Or we will be late and miss his arrival!”

                She hoists me off of the bed and makes quick time changing me out of my wrinkled robe now a few days old in use and into a lovely lavender gown I’d only worn once or twice since Zaphir had made it. My tangled locks are taking too long to conquer completely so she gives up, muttering that Zaphir should have been the one to spruce me up, and does her best to plate the hair, matted and tangled as it was, into an updo of sorts.

                “Please tell me I’m not dreaming.” I whisper, still half-aware of the reality going on all around me. This had to be a world away from the real one I was trapped in. Because Gaara was dead. He had to be. All this time away meant-

                “No, Aylin. This is no dream.” She squeezes me in her arms and presses a kiss to my cheek. “Those shinobi from the Leaf did their job and did it well. But let us speak of the details later. Orthos!” She yells at the shut doorway. “We’re done. Come on!”

                I’m quickly scooped into my other guard’s arms, squeaking and flailing as the sheer impossibility of events continues to occur. The village is oddly hushed, almost uncomfortably so, as we dash across the winding streets under the sky just breaking with dawn. But as we approach the front of the village, I hear it. The cries of relief as the villagers all gather. They speak of Gaara, of his miraculous return, and the sudden abduction they once knew nothing about.

                “Make way!” Tala barks, dashing a little way in front of us. “I said move! Lady Aylin is coming through. If anyone dares block our progress to the front to reunite her with Lord Kazekage, I will have more than just words with you!”

                No one moves to contest her. The villagers glance upon me, faces warm with hopeful looks or smiles of amusement, and a path is cleared for Orthos as he hurries along behind Tala who warned the crowds to part. Everyone is here. Everyone. Civilians, shinobi, councilmen, small children, wrinkled merchants… each and every person who called Suna home had gathered just outside the village wall- or as I glance up, on its various ledged levels- to see Gaara’s miraculous return home.

                I’m placed onto the sand once we’ve reached the front of the crowd. My heart is beating so fast, my whole body trembles, and I can hardly breathe as my lungs constrict.

                Home.

                He was coming home.

                Oh gods. Who, in this time of darkened despair, could have ever foreseen such a fabled end?

                A crunch of footsteps resounds in the sand just beside me. I turn to see Baki huffing for air, his large form bent slightly towards the ground as he too scrambled to catch up with this sudden but serendipitous news. He scans the skyline where the sun was just beginning its rise across the desert dunes, then back at the crowd just behind us.

                “Where are they?” He pleads, eyes wide as he failed to keep calm. My hands are clutched into the bodice of my dress, and I can feel my heart pounding so hard, so quick, I’m afraid I’m going to faint, fall, or become violently sick as the anticipation ate away ate me. “Well?!”

                “In the horizon!” Tala cheers, grappling onto Orthos’ back as she points back towards the sunlit scenery before us. “Look!”

                Slowly, but surely, tiny specks begin to darken the horizon where the sun slowly slid higher and higher. I can’t see him at first, but as the distance between us shortens, he’s there. Kankuro supports him to one side and Naruto the other. I lift my hands to my lips as the calls of “Lord Kazekage! He’s returned!” and “Thank the gods! He’s alive and well!” ring in variations all around me, and the crowd soon bursts into a booming round of applause. The tears burn in my eyes, but I blink them away quickly. I wanted nothing to blur my vision of him as he slowly trudged through the sand with the support of the two men who meant so much to him, and me in turn.

                His seafoam eyes widen even more when they land and remain fixated on me. I can’t restrain my sobs now nor the shaking of my own body. There’s a small push from behind, and I swivel my head to see both of my guards grinning at me.

                “Go on, then.” Orthos points in the direction of where Gaara is, his bronzed face about to split in two from the smile tugging his lips higher than I thought possible. “Welcome your beloved home.”

                I can only offer them a grateful smile as I take off across the sand. My feet stumble on the uneven plane of sand more than a few times, but nothing stops me. I’m flying, running faster than I ever had in my entire life, until I can be there beside him.

                And when I am, I throw my arms around him and hug him tight.

                “Gaara.” I weep, sobbing so loudly I knew everyone within ten yards of me could hear. “My Gaara. Thank the gods. Oh, you’re home. You’re truly, finally returned to me.”

                A painful wince as I feel him readjust to the strain of me crushing him in my hold. I think I am hurting him, but when his arms tremble to close around me, tugging me a fraction closer, I know he was merely shrugging himself out of his brother and best friend’s supportive hold so he could embrace me.

                “I’m home.” His airy, deep comment only makes me sob louder. “Aylin, I’ve returned to you.”

                The crowd behind us erupts in exclamations of joy, applause, and various other ecstatic gestures that all blur into one large roar of animated noise. I hold onto Gaara still, hands clenched tightly into his scuffed attire, and care nothing for etiquette nor onlookers as this intimate embrace continues publicly to Sand and Leaf citizens alike.

                “Ahem.” Kankuro coughs loudly from behind Gaara. We both suddenly become aware of our surroundings again, and we slowly break apart to turn and look at the grinning man. “As much as I’m sure we would all _adore_ watching you two go about your lover’s reunion, how about the pair of you tend to that behind closed doors, hm?”

                “He’s right.” Temari breaks from the crowd. Her teal eyes dance with joy when Gaara hugs me close to his side, though the smirk on her face is full of nothing but twisted amusement. “Don’t forget that Lord and Lady of the Sand is what you are before anything else.”

                “Forgive me.” I giggle, looking up into Gaara’s exhausted face. There is a twinkle in those eyes that speaks more than words could. “I lost all sense and logic the moment my beloved appeared. But it has returned to me yet again, so we will not embarrass ourselves further, hm, my love?”

                “My lord.” We turn back to see Baki kneeling in the dirt with Tala and Orthos on either side of him. There’s a crowd of citizens clogging the space behind them, all murmuring grateful comments or praises to see Gaara up close. “Welcome home. I’m so happy you’re safe.”

                “I’ve returned, Baki.” A calm comment from my intended as he dips his head. “It’s thanks to everyone here.”

                Baki turns his attention to the blonde standing to Gaara’s left. “Uzamaki Naruto, I am truly grateful.”

                I chime in with a murmur of agreement that sends the blonde blushing. “No, you’ve got it all wrong. I really didn’t do anything…”

                I smile. He really didn’t see how wrong he was. Gaara was right. He had a way of saving people when all hope was lost. For who else could have brought the man I loved back to me when I believed there to be no chance of him returning alive?

                “Lord Kazekage,” Baki dips his head, a proud smile on his features when he looks upon Gaara agin. “The villagers are all waiting for you.”

                The crowds behind him start to part, creating a path that lead right across the desert, through the narrow gap in the rock walls, and back to the village- his home. Our home. Kankuro gently nudges me away, apologizing all the while, but I know Gaara needs his strength to make the lengthy journey back. Naruto rejoins him on his other side as well, and they begin back at their slow pace down the cleared pathway.

                A hand rests on each of my shoulders. I turn my head to see Tala and Orthos on either side of me, grinning like they were the happiest people on the face of the planet in that moment. I can’t help but smile widely myself. He was home, safe and sound.

                “Wait.” Gaara’s beckoning call halts their progression only a few steps in. He slowly unhooks his arm from around Naruto’s shoulders to look behind him. “First…” He pauses to catch his breath as his eyes remain fixated on something behind us.

                And that’s when I see it.

                The stretcher. The bodybag. And the six people, including Lord Ebizo and the pink-haired woman from the Leaf, with their heads dipped in reverent respect to the deceased.

                My stomach drops.

                It could only be one person if Ebizo was present in the procession.

                But why?

                What circumstances had caused Lady Chiyo to pass so unexpectedly?

                “You’re right.” Temari’s once gleeful expression is somber with grief still fresh upon us all.

                Kankuro supports his brother as they come to stand beside me. I come to press myself against my lover’s side, and he wraps his free arm around my trembling shoulders. He’s trembling himself. And in that moment I knew that Chiyo had done the impossible. Somehow, someway, she had sacrificed her life so that Gaara could keep his instead.

                “Let us pray that Lady Chiyo’s soul rests in peace.” Baki commands the crowds with poise and ease. “A moment of silent prayer, everyone.”

                I dip my head and close my eyes, tears spilling all the same as the thought of this woman who cared for no one nor nothing sacrificing herself for the one man I loved more than life itself. What had changed her into acting selflessly? I knew it didn’t matter, for I thanked her all the same. Without the heavy price she paid, I knew Gaara would not have been here holding me again.

                “Now,” Kankuro sighs once the procession of her body is now safely within the walls. “To the hospital with the lot of you.”

                Gaara offers a small hum in agreement. “Aylin,” He glances down at me, and we seem to be lost in our own world for a moment. “Will you join us?”

                “Of course.” I reassure him softly. “I’ll follow along behind with the others. You go on ahead with Kankuro and Naruto, hm?”

                I let them lead him on and dip my head demurely as the group of strangers now totaling five members passes me by. Temari beckons for me with a wiggle of her finger as she ambles along behind them, and I hurry to her side. She wraps an arm around my shoulder and gives me a small squeeze.

                “Finally.” She breathes, smiling as she watches the others before us. “This is how it was meant to be all along.”

                “A happy ending.” I agree with a hint of sadness. “Though it too came at a price none of us could have foreseen.”

                A long sigh. “Hate to say it, but you’re right.”

                I pause once we’re inside the village to find Tala and Orthos. They’ve been behind me this entire time, silent but watchful as the procession mixed in with the villagers now all swarming back into their home. There’s a small smile on both of their faces, and I know they are overjoyed to see me finally acting myself again.

                “Go home and be with the ones you love.” I command them with a grin. “For today should be spent in the arms of those we cherish.”

                They both kneel into the sand. “As you wish milady.” Orthos replies with a bounce to his voice. “And may I say you look resplendent with this glow about you. Like a goddess sprung from the sand and sun.”

                Tala looks at me and nods. “Shining like the light we all know you to be. It suits you Aylin. Truly.”

                “Thank you.” I blush, so unprepared for compliments on top of this joyous occasion. “Truly, thank you both. For all you’ve done for me these last few days. I know I haven’t been very grateful for it but-”

                “No need to waste words on us, milady.” Orthos and Tala share a grin. “Go along. Lord Kazekage will be waiting for you.”

                As he of course was.

                “Gaara’s been asking for you nonstop since we got here.” Kankuro wiggles a finger inside his ear and looks slightly peeved. “Didn’t think my usually cool-headed brother could act like a whiny baby, but he’s proven me wrong so many times in the last year I’ve started wondering how well I really knew him all along.”

                I giggle as Temari rolls her eyes. “He’s this way.” She gestures down the hallway to a reserved wing of the hospital. “Want me to walk you to him?”

                I blink. “Won’t you be wanting to spend time with him too?”

                A laugh shared between the siblings.

                “Trust me,” Temari crosses her arms and stands with a little more sass than before.  “We’ll spend all the time we want with him once you two have finished reconnecting like the lovesick weirdos you are.”

                “He still has to apologize to you, remember?” Kankuro adds in, smirking himself. “And as much as I would love to be there to hear it, I’ll let him keep his dignity and do it in private. So go and keep him company for us, will ya? I’m sure he’s in need of your gentle touches right about now.”

                I flush, hating that they could tease me and there was nothing I could say edgewise. Because it was all true. And I knew, deep down, we were all glad it was that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we are almost at the finale. I feel like I've been writing this story forever. Which is a good feeling really. i hope you all are enjoying the new year so far. Thank you as always for reading. Until the next and final chapter my dears!


	22. Someday. Today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. It's been such a wonderful treat getting to write this work. Thank you to all of you who have been on this journey with me. Wishing you all the best as we now go on our separate ways! Enjoy this last installment!

              The door to Gaara’s hospital room is shut, and from the quiet briefing I’ve gotten from the medical team assigned to him, he was badly in need of some rest and rehydration. His body was weak, his muscles atrophied from days of no use, and his mind sure to be in a whirlwind from the events probably replaying themselves over and over just behind his shut eyelids. I worried what would come of this all in the long run. But I knew, no matter what, that I would stand by his side and support him through it.

               He’s lying on the cot shirtless and bandaged in several places. There’s a blanket tucked demurely over his languid form, but he looks pale. Ill. Like he hadn’t been caressed by the rays of the sun for a very long time. There’s an IV drip flowing into one of his arms, as well as what looks to be some sort of liquid medication. My chest constricts. Poor, poor Gaara. How frail and vulnerable he looked in those moments.

                I settle on the bed beside him, careful as I position myself as not to wake him. His mouth is parted open, lips dry and chaffed from severe dehydration, and those dark rimmed eyes even more pronounced than usual. My fingers gently smooth across his scuffed cheek, grateful and grieving that his return could not erase the sufferings we had both felt in the time he had been gone.

                A slight stir on his behalf. “A-“ He winces, eyes screwing tight as he heaves a heavy exhale. “Aylin?”

                “Yes, my love.” I soothe him as my caresses come to a soft halt. “It’s me. Get some rest. I will not leave your side. Not now. Not ever.”

                “I was…” He cracks an eye open and hazily sweeps it across my reclined form beside him. “Wishing you’d appear. And now… you’re here.”

                    I laugh softly. “Kuro told me you had been asking for me. Did you really think I would keep away from you? Am I not the person who loves you more than the world is vast, the cosmos infinite, or the ocean deep?”

                He shuts his eye and lets out a shaking sigh. “You love me… that much?”

                “Oh, so much more.” I lift his hand and press a kiss to each of his trembling fingertips. “And only time will allow me to show you with my actions as well as my words as to the extent of this feeling cradled in my chest.”

                “But I…” He rolls his head away from me, looking deeply ashamed despite his pain and fatigue trying to reign supreme. “Sent you away. Hurt you. Made you suffer. I saw it… on your face this morning. When you ran to greet me.”

                “Shhh.” I console him. “None of that. You filled my soul with such dazzling light, set a never-ending song in my heart, and began a tale in my life far more grand and fantastic than any story I’ve ever read or heard. You are my love, Gaara. I need you. Without you, I have no home to return to. No comfort in knowing that I am whole. And I will tell you this every hour of every day to reassure you that this is no farce.”

                He’s silent for a moment. I think him too exhausted to continue on in such a manner. But when he speaks again, I’m taken back.

                “Will you still love me,” He whispers, so broken that I can see the frightened, abandoned boy who was branded a monster against his will and shunned when all he wanted to do was be held close and told he was loved and needed in this world. “Now that I am a mere man?”

                His hand trembles violently in mine. I lower it back to the bed between us and give him a concerned look over. “Gaara? What do you mean?”

                “The demon within me…” Oh gods. My heart breaks just from the shaking in his voice. He sounded so tormented. “They extracted it. I am just human- just a man.”

                I move to push the tears as they escape from his eyes. “Oh, beloved, of course I still love you. How terrified you must be. And relieved too. It is strange and frightening, but you are alright. You are alive. You are finally free from the cruel fate you were never intended to carry.”

                He weeps on. “It feels, so empty inside me. Inside my mind. I’ve never felt like this- never lived a day without him tormenting me.”

                I smooth a hand over his unruly locks and press a kiss to his dampened cheek. “Then why don’t I tell you a tale? It’ll fill your mind with something other than your voice and give you something else to think about. Would you like that, Gaara? If I wove you a tale?”

                So I sit and tell him a soothing fable. One of a boy with the magical powers to make the music he played upon his instrument come to life. He goes on a magical journey to save his mother who has been placed under a spell by an evil enchanter who wished to use the boy to wreak havoc upon that realm. He travels through coast land, around snow-capped mountains, and through a lush forest teeming with plants and animals to reach the fortress and play a song that not only saves his mother, but the enchanter who never felt love before in his life.

                All the while as the story progresses, I caress Gaara’s cheek. Feel the taut skin of his forehead brush against my fingertips. Let those ruffled peaks of crimson hair bow then rise yet again as my hand smoothed over them slowly in an almost never-ending cycle. And he succumbs to it. So much so that he drifts away to sleep without another tear shed or frightened comment uttered.

                I sit with him a while longer then go out to see to the Leaf shinobi who played such a vital role in ensuring our well-being and livelihood as a village and as a family. Without them, Kankuro would have died a horrible death and Gaara too. And I would never forget that. Never.

                Most just smile politely and tell me they are in need of nothing when I amble in to speak with them. The majority are not badly injured, but some, like the gray-haired man from Naruto’s group, were in need of a period of inactivity and recuperate sleep. I thank them all graciously, words brimming with genuine gratitude and heartfelt praise, but most shy away, obviously embarrassed to have my honest words spoken aloud to them, and tell me it was their duty to do what they did.

                Naruto’s reclining by a window in the room he was occupying with the two other men his age from the other deployment Konoha had sent to our aid without my knowledge. He’s watching the sunlight bleach everything a pale yellowish white, and he’s happy. The look on his face and the relaxed posture tell me this with ease.

                I tap him on the shoulder politely and try not to laugh when he almost launches himself from the windowsill just from that light of a touch. He rights himself once he realizes it’s just me, rubbing at the back of his head with his bandaged hand. An apologetic smile forms not a moment later, and he looks almost comical.

                “Forgive me.” I smile myself. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you alright?”

                “Yep!” He props both his hands against the frame and grins at me. “How’s Gaara?”

                “Sleeping.” I confess, my smiling lifting a little. “Which speaks worlds on its own. How are you doing? Is there anything I can do to make your recovery here with us any more comfortable?”

                He shakes his head, a smile now plastered on his face. “Just take good care of Gaara. The rest of us can fend for ourselves. He’s the one in the worst shape after all.”

                “Hm.” My smile dims a fraction, though only for a moment. “Well, now that you have returned, I suppose I must extend my thanks that you would not previously accept.” I bow, head dipped low, and hold myself like that as I continue to speak. “Thank you, Naruto Uzamaki, for bringing Gaara back to me. For giving us all hope. I will be indebted to you forever.”

                “Eh? Eh?!” He stammers, clearly flustered by my heartfelt thanks. “No need for any of that. Gaara’s my friend. If I don’t come to his aid, who will? And I promised you I’d bring him back, and I never go back on my promises. Never.”

                I right myself and smile. “As you have proven. Gaara truly is lucky to have a friend like you. Now I see why he always admired you so much.” I giggle. “Would it be inappropriate for me to say that I too admire you, Mister Uzamaki?”

                “Ah…” He flushes, laughing nervously. “Kinda, if I’m being honest with you. Anyway,” He rubs at his head again. “Call me Naruto. Titles and all that fancy stuff really isn’t my thing. Not until I become Hokage myself, that is.”

                My smile grows. So he too had dreams of ruling his country. He would do splendidly. There was no doubt about that. “Very well. Then you must call me Aylin. For titles mean nothing to me. I merely accepted it when I came to stand by my beloved’s side.”

                “Sure thing.” He flashes a lopsided grin. “And you better get back to him soon. Wouldn’t want him waking in a panic and not seeing you there.”

                I dip my head and excuse myself. How kind everyone had been to me- to us both. This love between us was no longer ridiculed but respected. They saw how we had been tested and how this feeling that anchored us to one another was no farce, no conjured emotion to appease what had been an unexpected push for the two us to be together at the beginning of our relationship.

                Gaara sleeps for a better part of the day and is cleared to return home to rest that evening. I help him dress, much to his obvious embarrassment, but I know he enjoys my gentle touches and presence nearby. Kankuro helps walk him back, his arm draped around his youngest sibling, as Temari and I walk along behind at a slower pace. The two of them chat amongst themselves as we chat about the special dinner Baki’s procured, and when Gaara turns his head to look at me, I can’t help but cock my head and give him a tiny smile. What in the world were they talking about? Did it have something to do with me?

                I get my answer when we arrive back to their home.

                “Aylin.” Gaara turns in the hall once we’ve entered inside. “Spend the night with me.”

                I flush crimson. He wanted me to do _what_?!

                His siblings scream in delight, caught completely off-guard like I was, and shriek like it’s the funniest thing they’ve ever heard. Gaara merely sweeps his gaze from his brother, then to his sister, and lastly to me, his expression frozen in an emotionless glaze as he fails to understand the subtle nuance uttering such a phrase usually entailed.

                “Should I tell him?” Temari shakes with mirth as she wipes away her humored tears. “Or are you, Kuro?”

                Kankuro snorts. “I got this.”

                There’s a murmured string of comments into my beloved’s ears. He too turns beet red. The laughter ensues yet again as his wide eyes fall on me.

                “Forgive me.” Gaara’s mortified. “Aylin, I meant-”

                “Oh, she knows what you meant.” Temari slings an arm playfully across my shoulders. “Hm, Aylin?”

                I can’t squeak out an answer quick enough. She laughs. “My god, Kuro. What are we going to do with these two?”

                “Milk their innocence for all it’s worth.” He gives his brother a good-natured pat on the back. “Man, do I have a lot to teach you about, little bro. Consider it a thank you gift for educating me in politics all those years ago.”

                I know what he’s insinuating. So does Gaara. Our blushes burn brighter. Oh gods, would their teasing never end?

                We both settled into a nervous silence when we’re deposited at the doorway of his room. Gaara opens the door and politely invites me in. I dip my head, still sheepish from his desire for me to stay as well as from his sibling’s prodding to make this scenario more scandalous than we all knew it would have ever actually been.

                A small noise of concern from Gaara when he ambles in behind me. “My room…”

                “Ah, the blame for its disorder must fall on me.” I turn to give him an apologetic smile. “I spent some time in here recently and did not straighten up after myself.”

                He looks across the room to the bedside table. “And Tolka?”

                “Back in my room.” I confess softly. “As is the letter you had in the book I gifted you.”

                There’s a tangible change in the air.

                “Oh.” His voice is melancholic when it emerges. “I see.”

                I help him over to the bed and readjust the pillows behind him so that he can sit up with ease. He’s a little irritated to not be able to do so by himself, so I try my best not to coddle him. He was a man used to relying on his own strength. He was the kind who protected and sustained others, not the type to need to be protected. But he was human and had limitations, as much as I’m sure he wished he didn’t, and he had to accept that he needed help from time to time.

                He beckons me to stay with him, and I do not hesitate to do just that. I sit practically on top of him, legs splayed to either side of his own, so we were the closest we could possibly be. Gaara holds me softly, probably a mixture of tenderness and still prevalent fatigue, and presses a kiss to the top of my head as I snuggle it lovingly under his chin.

                “How long has it been since I last held you?” He murmurs as his hands slowly smooth across my back.

                I chuckle softly. “Far too long. But no matter.” I smile. “You will swiftly make up for it, I am sure.”

                 We sit in silence for a long time following. Gaara lifts his hands to my hair and slowly does away with the hasty work Tala put in this morning to have the unruly locks settled into something decent. A pleasant shiver passes down my spine as he smooths my mane of hair back so he can tangle his fingers in it. I think he liked it best when my hair was loose. I would have to remember that when we were alone.

                “Aylin?” He mumbles my name against my scalp.

                “Yes?”

                “Thank you.” He falters for a moment. “For all you’ve done this past week. Kankuro told me about how you soothed the villagers and cared for him when his life was on the line. I am in awe of what I did to ever deserve you. And how foolish I had been to push you away.”

                I hush him gently. “Think nothing of it. I acted for the betterment of us all, not to be praised. And I knew you would come to your senses sooner or later. So do not think I was angry or upset with you.”

                “You amaze me.” He confesses. I prop my chin against his chest to see his eyes sparkling with tender adoration. “Despite the odds, despite my stubborn refusal, you stood your ground and fought. That is not a sentiment usually spoken outside of tales. A rare, but lovely trait uniquely possessed by you.”

                “Then let it all not be for naught.” I plead softly, eyes steadfast on his own. “Say you will take me as your betrothed again. Let me love you for the rest of my life.”

                A small nod. “I had no intention of doing otherwise.”

                “Good.” I press a kiss to his jawline. “Because I do not think I could manage embarking on another task to win back your favor.”

                A languid sigh. “The elders have proven me wrong. Though I am sorry that we must now grieve for Lady Chiyo. To know her life was sacrificed for my own… I cannot help but feel this terrible sense of guilt.”

                I hum a half-hearted agreement. “I can scarcely process it myself. To have seen her alive and cackling like the loon she was only a few days prior, only to have her gone… it seems surreal. But,” I pause to run a finger in random patterns across his chest. “I am indebted to her. More grateful than words could ever express in this situation.”

                “We will have to don our mourning clothes for the rest of the week.” He comments sadly. “Remind me to have mine found and pressed.”

                I press a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll find it for you later. Seeing as I am spending the evening here, there will be plenty of time to do so.”

                He fidgets nervously beneath me, suddenly sheepish. “Forgive me for being uncouth earlier. Truly, Aylin. I spoke too brashly. I am quite naïve to nuances. Of many things dealing with romance or relationships.”

                “It’s alright.” I chuckle lightly. “I am not much more enlightened than you are. We will learn together at our own pace.”

                “Very well.” He sounds hesitant. I’m sure he was nervous. Frightened, even. In part, I was too. “But rest assured that I will respect you at every step in the process. Do not think I will push you to do anything you are not consenting to fully.”

                I smile. “I was not worried about that in the slightest, beloved.”

                There’s a knock to the door sometime later. Gaara and I have been laying complacently in each other’s arms, so much so that I’ve almost drifted off to sleep. But I’m lightning quick to clamber off Gaara’s lap and sit on the edge of the bed beside him, frantically sweeping my loose hair over one of my shoulders as the door slides open to reveal Kankuro and Temari’s smirking faces.

                “Alright for us to enter?”

                I roll my eyes. “Yes, yes. Did you really think we were going to be indecent?”

                “Hey,” Kankuro says slyly as he ambles in through the open doorway with a tray of food in his hands. “I’d rather be safe than sorry, y’know? Wouldn’t want to amble in on something and have to burn my eyes for seeing something I shouldn’t have.”

                I make a face. “Your humor knows no bounds, Kuro. Glad to know you’ve returned to your former self. I am sure we are all _very_ enthralled to be audience to your quips yet again.”

                He winks. “A pleasure I’m sure, dear lady.”

                Temari rolls her eyes as she shuts the door behind her with a tray pressed against her chest as it is held in her other hand. “Putting aside the clown and his never-ending comedy act, we thought it’d be nice to eat together. Seeing as Gaara’s not really supposed to move other than for the necessary bodily needs he has, Kuro and I brought the meal to you.”

                “Really?” Gaara blinks, obviously taken back by his sibling’s selfless actions. “How considerate. Thank you.”

                We sit and eat, laughing and joking all the while thanks to Kankuro’s almost insatiable sense of humor and Temari’s quick witted and often sarcastic comments to set him back into place. I almost choke on a bite of my food as the sudden hilarity ensues yet again, but Gaara is always quick to guide a cup of tea into my hands to help dislodged the food stuck unsuspectingly in my throat.

                “Ahh.” Kankuro leans back on the floor, head rolled back in utter delight. “That was a great meal.”

                Temari snorts. “More like dinner and a show if you ask me.”

                I giggle. “She’s right. Are you sure you really aren’t some long lost performer belonging to a circus, Kuro?”

                “Might as well be.” His sister butts in before he can utter a response. “With those puppets and face paint, he fits the bill.”

                He rolls his eyes. “Haha. Very funny, Mari. I’m not the only eclectic one here. Gaara has a freaking indoor garden, remember?”

                “Don’t compare tending to plants to mundane acts such as apply make-up.” Gaara sounds a little disconcerted. “They’re two completely unrelated things.”

                Temari laughs. “Aww, seems we hit a sore point with our baby brother. But let’s leave it at that tonight, hm?” She stands to her feet and begins to collect everyone’s empty dishes. “Gaara, go take a bath. The doctor said it’ll help with your muscles, and in all honesty, you stink. Wouldn’t want Aylin suffocating in her sleep thanks to your odor.”

                He takes a small sniff of himself and grimaces. “Noted.”

                “Let me help you to the bathroom.” Kankuro gets up and smiles. “While I’m sure Aylin would be more than willing to take the job herself, she needs a break from babysitting you.”

                “Very well.” Gaara acquiesces calmly. His eyes fall on me. “Would you like to return home for a short while? Temari can-“

                I shake my head. “No need for that. I’m sure no one is worried about me. After all, Tala keeps a close watch on us both, does she not?”

                He nods slowly. “If that is what you wish.”

                 “It is.” I grin. “Go on, then.”

                Temari watches me sort through Gaara’s closet a short time later for a fresh change of clothes to wear this evening, as well as his mourning attire. I can’t help but laugh at the utter pristine condition of most of his clothing that was, in all honesty, just a replica of the maroon outfit he wore every day since we’d first met. I think I hear her snort at my amusement, but when I turn, a mis-matched outfit of a soft gray shirt and a pair of loose pants in a similar sort of material draped against one of my arms, the aching look of sadness is enough to wipe the gentle smile from my face completely.

                “Temari?” My voice shakes. I didn’t like that look. Not at all. “What’s wrong?”

                She averts her gaze to the floor. “Just… Come and get me or Kuro if Gaara has any sort of night terrors. I know he doesn’t have Shukaku inside of him any longer, but he is still a very powerful shinobi regardless. One who can still hurt you, unfortunately, without meaning to do so. We’ve dealt with him. We have the strength to restrain him when physical force is necessary. So promise me you’ll do that. Or you’ll make Gaara- and us too- worry more than need be.”

                I frown. There wasn’t any way I could say no, even if I wished to shoulder the burdens that would come with his rehabilitation myself. “I promise.”

                “Good.” She gestures for the clothes. “Here. I’ll go bring these to him. Need me to grab you anything on my way back down?”

                I smile lightly. “I’m fine. Thanks for all the concern. It’s nice to know,” I rub at my arm. “That we can all finally laugh and smile together.”

                “So sentimental.” She snorts. “No wonder Gaara likes you so much.”

                He returns a short time later with a pat to his back from Kankuro. “Behave yourselves. Ya hear me?” Kuro winks at me when I cross my arms and shoot him a look. “Don’t want to be in my room wondering if the noise coming from in here is something I need to be concerned about. Set a good example for your people, my lord and lady.”

                I scoff. “Go away.”

                “Ack!” He clutches a hand over his hand and cringes. “Aren’t you going to say anything to her, Gaara?”

                Gaara lets out a bemused snort. “Aylin speaks true. Go away.”

                “I see how it is!” He weeps dramatically as he moves to shut the door. “Nobody loves the big brother around here anymore.”

                “More like big baby, if you ask me.” I mumble under my breath just loud enough for him to hear.

                Soon, it’s just the two of us alone again. I’m a little sheepish, not so much for what was the come, but the weight of his gaze sweeping curiously against me as we stood with a little distance between us. Cosmos knew we would do nothing improper this evening, but it did not mean we would sit around and do nothing either.

                “Ah.” Gaara lets out a suppressed sound of alert. “You have no nightgown.”

                I look down, cheeks burning as the dress I’d worn all day stands out as the single piece of clothing I had with me. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll sleep well in this.”

                “I won’t send you out in the morning wearing a crumpled gown.” He moves away to his closet behind me. “For I think it would speak more ill than in favor of this situation.” He returns shortly with a shirt. “Do you think this will work as a substitute?”

                I don’t have the heart to tell him no. “Of course.”

                “Very well.” He presses a kiss to the top of my head. “I’ll turn my back and let you change in peace.”

                I tug on the bottom hem of the shirt and burn crimson. It fits comfortably, surprisingly, considering my shape and Gaara’s lankier stature, though the curves I have hug the material close and barely cover the areas it should have to remain modest. Still, what could be done? I didn’t want Temari or Kankuro to get involved. Heavens know that they would take this situation to their advantage and pester us to know end for the umpteenth time this evening.

                “I’m finished.” I murmur, tugging at the hem again as Gaara turns. I can’t look at him. My face is burning. I’m mortified.

                He says nothing for a short time. “Come to bed then.” There’s an uneasiness in his words that signals he’s flustered just as badly as I am. “You are in need of rest.”

                I clamber up onto the mattress, slide beneath the blanket beside him, and hide my face against his side as his arm slowly wraps around me. We’re silent. Painfully so. Then Gaara yawns, and I do a moment later, and the nervousness is quickly forgotten as the humor warms our veins instead.

                 “A long day.” He comments softly.

                “Hm.” I agree. “But a momentous one.”

                “Indeed.” He readjusts slightly beside me, sliding a little lower onto the mattress. “One we will scarcely forget for as long as we live.”

                We sit in silence, replaying the events of this day- hardly believable to be a day with all the things it held so unsuspectingly with these mere hours- and my heart if filled with such gratefulness I cannot keep from speaking. “Gaara?”

                He stirs slightly. “Yes?”

                “I love you.”

                I’m pulled a little closer to his body so that he can easily press a kiss to my hairline. “I love you too.”

                “I know.” I smile against his skin. We sit in bliss for a short time longer, and as much as I would love for him to hold me and endlessly speak words of intimacy to each other, he needed as much rest as possible. For tonight he was merely Gaara. But when morning came, he would yet again be Kazekage, leader of all Sunagakure. “Here, let me help you lay a little more comfortably. There.” I press a kiss to his cheek and lay curled against him. “Why don’t I tell us a tale to help us both fall asleep?”

                The tale I weave is one about an uncanny hero and his beloved who were to wed. But as the woman went to gather flowers to weave into her hair for the auspicious event, she is bitten by a poisonous snake and dies. The man, unable to live his life without her, travels down to the underworld and overcomes every trial set before him to save his lover. And despite the threat of death thick around them both, they come back to the mortal world victorious in life and love.

                “As have we, my love.” I whisper to Gaara’s slumbering form beside me. “We have risen from the ashes and returned victorious from these trials. Now we may count our blessings and continue on together as intended. For I will never leave you. Not until death do us part.”

THE END

 


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